Losing His Touch
by White N Nerdy
Summary: Set between the two movies. An old acquaintance of Ben’s is back and looking for treasure compensation. Not only is Ben’s best friend in danger, but so is his straining relationship with Abigail...
1. Dinner And A Kidnapping

**Losing His Touch**

"Now I'll play God, because your God is just losing his touch." –Jack Off Jill

_Rated T for violence and language._

**Foreword**

My next National Treasure story. And, hot damn, it's up sooner than I'd thought it would be! See, once I get my mind wrapped around something it's not long before I can get that something accomplished. It also helped that I had some extra time to write after I lost my painting mojo :( I did still end up half-assing some of the story just to finish it. Hopefully that's not too obvious.

Basically this is the story that takes place between the movies and is my attempt to explain the Ben and Abigail's breakup and the kind of distance that was between Ben and Riley in the beginning of "Book of Secrets." As for the title…well titles are hard to come up with sometimes, and I find it easier to just borrow something that already exists as a title. It's not even my favorite Jack Off Jill song, but I think it fits pretty well, in more than one way. Not the song, though. Just the title.

So enjoy, and expect, as always, regular updates, like at least once a week. But I don't want to post as quickly as I did with that last National Treasure story, because this one's a bit shorter with only ten chapters and I still have to do a lot of heavy editing so it makes sense. I hope you guys enjoy it.

**Chapter I: Dinner And A Kidnapping**

"Abigail…someone's at the door…"

The doorbell rang again.

"I _know_, Ben."

The bell kept ringing. Insistently.

"Do you want me to get it?"

"No, I've got it, Ben," Abigail called behind her as she sped towards the entrance way of hers and Ben's mansion. Sometimes having a big house was a bit annoying, especially when it takes her a long few minutes to get down the stairs and through the halls to the foyer while whoever is ringing the doorbell won't take their finger off the _damn_ button.

Abigail threw open the door and was met by a young man with a goofy smile plastered on his face. A second passed before he finally took his hand away from the doorbell. "Helllooo, Abigaaaiiil."

"Riley," Abigail said as he took a step past her and into the house. "You're….three hours early…"

He shrugged. "Yeah, well. I hit a snag on my book. So, you know…nothing else to do…"

"You're writing…a book?" Abigail couldn't help the bemused smile that grew on her face at the absurdity of the computer whiz writing a book. "Some sort of sci fi novel, I assume?"

Riley rolled his eyes before answering her with a question of his own. "So how was the trip? You guys went to like Disney World or someplace really fun without me, right?"

"It was Venice, Italy."

"Oh," he mumbled, stuffing his hands in his jeans' pockets while lightly scuffing his Chuck Taylors across the floor in apparent boredom.

Abigail had every intention of striking up a conversation with him—she was curious about this book he was apparently writing—when something in the hall caught Riley's eye. He did a double take before the wide smile grew on his face again.

"Hey, Ben!"

The treasure hunter had appeared from the hall, an equally wide smile on his face. "Riley, I figured that was you…"

Riley sped to his friend, then stopped short in front of him, almost awkwardly as he gazed up at Ben with a smile. You'd think he hadn't seen Ben in months. But he and Abigail had only been gone for two weeks on a romantic getaway, the first time they could do so since the Templar treasure was found more than six months ago. Riley had whined and complained before they left, saying that he wanted to go too, even though the couple intended for the outing to be for them, and them alone.

"Of _course_ it's me," Riley was saying. "You're offering free food—how could I _possibly _turn that down?"

Abigail almost rolled her eyes. Almost. Instead she smiled at how adorable it was that the young man was so devoted to Ben, and how Ben doted on him in return.

Ben chuckled and clapped his friend on the shoulder as Riley's smile grew almost impossibly wider. "Come on, kid. Since you're here early, you can make yourself useful in the kitchen." He winked at Abigail, who grinned and shook her head at the pair.

"Ohhh man…" she could hear Riley whine as he and Ben disappeared down the hallway. "You know how much I _hate_ doing kitchen stuff…"

Abigail sighed. The two of them shared something that she knew she and Ben would never have together. Riley was fiercely loyal to Ben and would do anything for him, in the same way that Ben was overly protective of Riley. It was a weird friendship but for them it seemed to work. Riley had yet to open up with her as much as he had with Ben, and sometimes she got the feeling that he thought she was interfering with their friendship. Ben, meanwhile, was oblivious and just glad to have both of them in his life.

She glanced at her watch. Ben's father would be here in a few hours. Clearing all other thoughts from her mind, she focused on the dinner party at hand and everything she had yet to do in the short period of time.

* * *

"You didn't."

"He did," Abigail said with a proud grin.

"No he didn't."

"Yeah, dad," Ben said with content smile on his face. "I did."

"You gave this lovely young woman a ring?"

Abigail beamed at the "lovely" and "young" compliments while Ben shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Well…not yet. I gave her really, _really _nice perfume. That counts, right?"

"It's not that big of a deal," Abigail assured Ben's father. "It's more like a pre-_pre-_engagement anyway. I mean, we wouldn't even think of planning anything for…" She looked over to Ben, who had her hand clasped in his. "Oh, I don't know…a year or so. Until everything dies down and we don't feel like we're being accosted by reporters or fans every time we leave the house. Right, Ben?"

To this Ben nodded, grinning widely with a "that's right."

Patrick sighed and shook his head. "I hope this isn't just you being cavalier again. I like Abigail and I don't want you to screw this up."

"Thanks, Patrick," Abigail said, smiling widely to her future father in law.

"I won't screw up, dad," Ben said monotonically, as though he had said it countless times before.

"Good, son," Patrick said, nodding. "Then I guess what I mean to say is congratulations on the engagement." A proud grin broke on his face as he looked at the couple, who smiled back at him.

The only figure at their dining table that didn't have a smile on his face was Riley, who was slumped down in his chair next to Patrick. He was picking at the little bit of food he had left on his plate, lost in his own thoughts while everyone else talked of the engagement and ignored his occasional annoyed snorting sounds completely. He looked in disgust at the green slushy stuff before him that must have been some kind of vegetable at one point. Gross.

"Hey, Riley," Ben called suddenly from across the table.

"Meh," Riley mumbled without even bothering to look up.

"When we do end up getting hitched you're going to be my best man, right?"

Riley, who was still engrossed in playing with his food, merely grumbled in response. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever."

Ben and Abigail sent knowing looks to each other, smiling and rolling their eyes. They had assumed he would react this way. Ben had predicted he'd be grumpy for a little while, having never been a fan of change in any form. But it never took Riley long to go back to being good old Riley.

"So, Riley," Abigail said, speaking up and succeeding in getting the young man's attention away from his uneaten food. "What kind of a book are you writing?"

"Book?" Ben's reaction was the same as Abigail's had initially been—one of bemused interest.

Riley shrugged casually, but had perked up in his seat and could barely contain the smirk on his face now that he was the center of attention. "Yeah, a book. And I'm writing it."

"Well, what _kind_ of book," Abigail said.

"Oh, you know…one with a cover, lots of pages, some big words to make people feel smart while they're reading it...stuff like that."

She rolled her eyes again. "I mean what are you writing _about_?"

"It's _about_ our treasure and various other conspiracies and stuff."

Ben couldn't help the confounded expression on his face. "That…that's great, Riley. If you want any help with it or anything…"

But Riley raised his hand and shook his head to silence his friend. "No way, Ben. This is _my_ thing. I know you're a walking encyclopedia of random knowledge but I'm doing the research myself. Which, by the way, is not as easy as you always made it look."

Ben grinned. "I'll just have to be surprised when I read it, then."

"Yup."

"I'm sure it'll be a surprise when everyone reads it," Patrick scoffed quietly. When all eyes turned to him at his negatively stated remark, he was quick to clear his throat and steer the conversation in a new direction. "So… Will there be any more traveling in the near future? Or are you two actually staying home for a while?"

While Ben glared at his father over the first comment, Abigail piped up with an answer to his question. "No. I think we've all been around the world enough times. This was our last vacation for a while."

"What are you going to do now, get jobs?"

"Well, I think we've got enough money to keep us comfortable for a long time," Ben said. "But Abigail's going to keep working for the Archives."

"Is that right?"

"Yes, I'll be back in tomorrow. I've put too much work into the position to just leave now."

"But you boys are just going to retire with your millions?" He turned to Riley. "I wish I could have been lucky enough to retire before I was even thirty."

"Yeah, but I'm still writing a book."

"Oh yes, a Nobel Prize worthy book, I'm sure," Patrick said sarcastically. "What about you, son? Any plans?"

"Yeah, actually," Ben said with a smug look on his face that meant it was story time. "You know…the Templar treasure wasn't the only secret kept in the Gates family. I thought, dad, that you and I could do some more digging on Thomas Gates."

Patrick beamed at his son. "That's an excellent idea. You know, my grandfather, Charles, talked about a clue to another possible treasure map, one that Thomas was working on the day he was murdered. They say, that after the Civil War, the night Lincoln was shot, Thomas Gates was decoding a cipher that would—"

"Okay, okay, okay," Riley interrupted. "More clues to more treasures and more chances for Riley to get shot, or maimed, or something equally un-fun. You guys can count me out."

"But Riley," Ben said. "I did tell you that you get to pick how much we take home from the next treasure."

"Yeah, but I _kinda_ just figured you were kidding, as usual. Besides—half of one percent was a lot more than I'd originally thought."

"And you've spent it on, what," Ben said with a smirk. "Toys for yourself?"

Riley actually chuckled. "Oh, Ben. Toys? _Toys_, you say? I have spent a quarter of a million dollars on the most high tech equipment _ever_, and frankly I think it was money well spent."

"I believe he was referring to your car, not your computer," Abigail scoffed with an amused grin on her face.

"Oh. Well I didn't have my van anymore and I really, really, _really_ wanted a Ferrari."

"The thing's a death trap on wheels," Patrick grumbled.

"What, cause it's a convertible?"

"No because you're driving it," the older man retorted.

Riley blinked at him, for once at a complete loss for words. "Um, what?"

"He's got a point, Riley," Ben said as he and Abigail struggled to contain their laughter. "You're not really the greatest behind the wheel of a car."

"What?! Aw, come on. I'm a good driver…"

Abigail shook her head when he actually looked to her for support. He turned to each of the Gates men, and they too shook their heads at him. He slouched back in his seat and raised his hands in exaggerated defeat.

"Okay fine. I see how it is. Pick on Riley day, haha, very funny. I liked it better when you were talking about wedding stuff."

Abigail perked up at this. "Well I was thinking we could even do the whole ceremony here, on the grounds. I'll get a priest and set everything up…it'll be lovely. Don't you think so Ben?"

"Uh huh…"

* * *

When midnight rolled around, Patrick was finally finishing his hour long good byes, so Riley figured he'd better get home too, before Abigail had to kick him out. Home to his dinky little town house where he could spend sleepless hours in front of a computer screen. He couldn't wait.

"Bye Abigail! Bye Ben!"

Riley waved enthusiastically as he and Patrick left the house. The senior Gates rolled his eyes at the young man's antics. Riley didn't mind though. He knew that as annoying as he was considered to be by the older man, Patrick Gates truly did love his company.

They walked down to the driveway in an almost awkward silence. As Patrick approached his car, he and Riley shook hands and said their goodbyes.

"Good luck with that book, kid."

"Thanks Mr. Gates," Riley said with a bright grin. "Good luck with your…um…treasure research stuff or whatever."

Patrick chuckled at that and disappeared into his car. Riley finally turned to his own vehicle—his beautiful bright red convertible—and rolled his eyes as he recalled the dinner conversation. They just made fun of him because they were jealous of how awesome his car was. He knew he was a great driver.

One of his favorite things to do was to jump into his seat. And now he was practicing to take his trick even further. He took a few long steps back, looked around to see if anyone was watching him, then, after deducing that Patrick was long gone and no one else could possibly see him in the dark, he sprinted at his car and leapt rather ungracefully over the passenger's side door. It had been a cool move in his head, but each time he attempted it he seemed to be in the same position—foot caught on the door with the rest of him sprawled over the front seats.

While he may not have been good at the actual jumping into the car motion, he was always good at a quick recovery, especially when there were attractive girls watching. In the blink of an eye Riley was upright in the driver's seat with his keys in the ignition. Grinning to himself triumphantly in an attempt to disband the embarrassed flush that appeared on his face, he started the car and pulled out without a second look back.

The thing he hated about Ben and Abigail's house was that it was in the middle of nowhere, over a half an hour away from his apartment. The mansion was on a huge lot surrounded by farm land. Or what used to be farmland. Plantation land was probably more like it. But this isn't exactly what Riley hated; on contraire, he actually liked driving through the rolling fields. It was better than any city traffic.

No, what bothered him was the fact that after getting maybe half a mile away from the Gates' mansion he always got stuck at this one traffic light. A totally unnecessary traffic light on a deserted intersection that for some reason turned red whenever it knew Riley was approaching.

And so, rather than feeling the cool breeze in his hair as he drove his awesome convertible, he was left sitting at the light with absolutely nothing around but darkness. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment. His eyes darted back and forth. 

Definitely nothing but darkness. He wondered if anyone would notice or care if he just went. With his luck, there'd be a cop hiding in a bush or something just waiting for him to run the red light.

He pondered for a second on how his luck had been and if Karma was in fact on his side or not when a soft rustling sounded from behind him. In his car. There was something in his car. He spun his head around to the right and managed to see a large, dark figure out of the corner of his eye emerging from the back seat of the convertible. Before Riley couldn't even think of reacting, said figure grasped a handful of the young man's hair, yanked his head back, and slammed his left temple against the steering wheel. Not once, not twice, but three times until Riley could feel something sticky oozing down his forehead through blinding pain.

His attacker finally released his hold on Riley's head and Riley slumped to the side, kept upright only by his seat belt. Luck certainly wasn't on his side tonight. He was suddenly very nauseous as he felt himself being pulled out of his seat and into the back of the car. Whether he threw up or not was a mystery to him, as he passed out just when his stomach started to feel particularly rebellious.

_

* * *

_

Keep in mind that while this story is only ten chapters long, each chapter is about 3,000 words long, so there's always that to look forward to :)


	2. An Old Friend And A New Enemy

**Chapter II: An Old Friend And A New Enemy**

"Ben? Ben _Gates_?"

Ben groaned inwardly. If he had a nickel for every time someone came up to him on the streets…well, then he'd be even wealthier than he already was. In nickels, at least.

"Ben, is that really you, man?"

He was flattered at first and had even taken a liking to the nickname "Treasure Guy" that some people were using. But now it was getting a little annoying to be stopped in the streets whenever someone recognized him from TV or the newspapers or magazines or the internet…

He turned slowly, taking a deep breath to help him deal with whoever was trying to get his attention so he could be on his way as quickly as possible. He was taken back, however, by the fact that he actually recognized the person in front of him.

"Stephen Bindley?"

Stephen nodded, a wide smile on his face. The man was as tall as Ben with light brown, wispy hair that swept back over his head. He was a handsome, young looking man, though, if Ben remembered correctly, Stephen was the same age he was.

"Yeah! Man, Benny, it's great to see you again."

"You too, Steve," Ben replied with half a smile on his face as the pair shook hands, though Ben honestly wasn't too enthused to see Stephen, and he wasn't completely sure why Stephen would be so enthused to see him.

"Been seeing you on the news, guess you finally found that treasure of yours, huh?"

Oh, _that's_ why they were talking. Ben could only assume he wanted a piece of the treasure. What with their history and all…

Stephen and Ben had met years back while Ben was searching for clues to the Templar treasure. Stephen was a trained deep sea diver that worked at the Naval Diving and Salvage Training Center where Ben learned to dive, almost a decade earlier. When asked why he was diving, Ben relayed the treasure story that was told to him by his grandfather, a story that interested Stephen greatly. He quickly left his Naval duties and joined Ben on his quest to find the elusive _Charlotte_ in the hopes of finding sunken treasure in the old ship. But after three years of following clues that seemingly led to nowhere, Stephen backed out, finding the whole thing to be a huge waste of time and money. Now, though, he must have felt differently.

"Yeah," Ben said somewhat reluctantly. "Yeah, Steve, I did."

"That's great man. I just…wow…didn't think you'd really find it. But now look at you—on the news and all famous and stuff…good for you man. Good for you."

And surprisingly, it seemed to Ben that Stephen was genuinely impressed that Ben had even managed to find his imaginary treasure.

"Thanks. It means a lot, coming from you."

"Ah, no problem, man," Stephen said while giving Ben a friendly clap on the back. "So that means you found the _Charlotte_, right? Where'd you dive for it? I thought we looked everywhere—legally or otherwise."

Ben smiled authentically now. Steve wanted to hear the story. Ben _loved_ telling stories. "I actually didn't even have to dive for it. It was in the Actic, buried in some ice. See I did a little more digging and found out that weather patterns could have brought the ship further north than we thought. I got a guy to finance the search, and with his team we hired a computer technician friend of mine from MIT to write a program that would calculate where exactly the ship crashed. The rest is, well, history."

Stephen was in awe. "Wow that's amazing…" He snapped his fingers suddenly, as though a brilliant idea had come to him. "Hey…what are you doing now? Wanna go get a coffee or something? I'd love to hear more of what I missed in this treasure hunt of yours. What do ya say, Benny?" He jerked his head to his left, where a quaint little French coffee shop was located on a quiet side street.

Ben thought it over. He wasn't doing anything pressing right now. Abigail was back at the National Archives working, so he was just running errands and killing time in the Library of Congress looking up information on Thomas Gates until she gets out.

"Sure," Ben answered with a grin. "After all, we do have lots of catching up to do…"

Two and a half hours and two coffees later Ben was finally concluding his very detailed story. He'd honestly forgotten how much fun Stephen was to talk to. The guy loved story telling as much as Ben and his jovial laugh was extremely contagious. As it turned out Stephen was still doing his diving thing down in Florida, using his skills with various aquatic researches now as opposed to treasure hunters. He was in town for a week "on business," as he put it.

Ben told him everything that had happened since they'd first parted ways. All the clues he'd found, all the people he'd met… He was finally approaching the end of the story, after they'd found the Templar Treasure and had Ian Howe, the traitor, arrested.

Stephen smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Great story, Ben."

"I do love telling it," Ben grinned.

Stephen chuckled. "You always did have a way with words. I just can't believe everything I missed out on. I honestly thought you were crazy. Three years we searched for that damn ship. And it was on ice the whole time."

"Yeah. If it weren't for Ian's money and Riley's computer skills it could have been another decade until I'd found anything. I was beginning to lose hope, you know?"

"But that's just it, Ben," Stephen said seriously. "Your hope was what kept you going."

Ben nodded. "I'm just glad I wasn't really as crazy as you and everyone else thought."

"You just don't know how crazy you are, Ben."

Neither man was smiling anymore as they sat there in silence for a long minute. Ben furrowed his brows while Stephen's expression darkened.

"What exactly did you want, Steve?" Ben asked as he stared down his once treasure hunting friend. "We didn't necessarily leave on good terms. Hell I haven't even _seen_ you in seven years. What are you doing here now?"

"I told you," Stephen said with a smirk. "I'm here on business."

Ben shook his head. "I'm not stupid. You came looking for me, not 'business.'"

"Alright, you got me Ben," Stephen suddenly said dangerously, leaning across the table. "But I am here for business. I was hoping we could…make a little _deal_."

Ben frowned, not liking where this was suddenly going. "What do you want, Steve?"

The other man grinned and cleared his throat to answer Ben's question with another question. "So…you were the only one left to credit the treasure to?"

"Yeah," Ben answered reluctantly, his glare still locked on Stephen's face. "Actually I had them credit Riley too, as well as the whole Gates lineage. We deserved it, after so many generations searched for it." He glanced causally at his watch, hoping to end their conversation before Steve could get to his point. "Listen, Steve, it's been great, but I really should get going." He stood to leave and Stephen followed.

"And how much did you find again?"

"A lot," Ben growled, never looking back at the other man. "But it was divided among different museums and organizations."

"You said you got one percent, right?" he called as they left the shop and turned a corner, heading toward the quiet street where Ben's car was parked. "One percent of a lot is still a lot."

Ben stopped short and spun to face his old friend. "Listen, Steve. I'm really, _really_ sorry you missed out on the rest of the treasure hunt but there's nothing I can give you, all right? Riley and I split the one percent and that was it. There is no more."

"I was afraid you'd say that," the other man muttered.

Ben started to walk away again but froze mid step at when he heard what Stephen had to say next.

"This Riley kid," Stephen said suddenly, now with an almost evil glint in his eye. "He's your friend, isn't he? You care about him a lot, don't you? After all, without him, you never would have found the _Charlotte_."

Ben definitely did not like where this was suddenly going. His stomach did nervous summersaults but he managed to keep a hard glare locked on the other man's face. "Steve, you need to stop this—"

Stephen cut him off again, his voice low and malicious as he said, "do you care one percent's worth?"

"What?" Ben was taken back. That was not what he expected at all. He didn't want Riley to get caught up in this. He stared bewildered at Stephen, who had a dead serious look on his face.

"I mean," Stephen continued in that same sadistic voice, never missing a beat. "If your little friend was in trouble, would he be worth some of the treasure to you?"

"Stephen," Ben said as his blood suddenly turned very cold. "Don't even think what you're thinking, cause it's not going to happen. Riley has nothing to do with this—"

"What, you don't think I could pull it off?" A cruel smile grew on the man's face. "Call him. Right now. Go on, call him."

Ben paled at the absolute confidence in Stephen's tone. He suddenly remembered why he didn't mind when Stephen left the hunt in the first place. The guy was a fun conversationist, but he was quick to throw a tantrum or do something stupid to get what he wanted. And this was definitely something stupid.

"Seriously, call him. Or don't. It doesn't matter. He won't answer anyway."

"And why's that," Ben growled through a clenched jaw.

Stephen reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a small, shiny object. Ben immediately recognized the high tech little gadget that did everything a phone could possibly do. Riley had bought it after they'd found the treasure. He didn't know how Riley had gone through life without it.

"Because I have his phone," Stephen boasted.

He hit a single number on the touch pad display and Ben's heart sank as he felt something vibrating in his pocket. He hesitated for a moment, never taking his glare from Steve's face, before removing the phone and flipping it open. Sure enough he'd just answered a call from "Riley's Cell"—the kid did have him on speed dial, after all.

"You son of a bitch," Ben suddenly yelled, barely managing to control himself from lunging at the guy. "I don't believe you. This isn't…it can't be…"

"Tell you what, Gates," Stephen said, his voice and expression back to his normal, cheery self as he pocketed Riley's cell phone. "It's like noonish. I'm giving you eight hours to believe me and gather up, say, half a million dollars in cash. You owe me that much, at least."

"And if I don't?"

Stephen shrugged. "Well I know one person who won't benefit. Talk to you at eight. Oh, and," he said, suddenly coming right into Ben's face with that crazed looked again. "No cops, no FBI, no nothing. If the tiniest thing goes wrong in our little business transaction, you have my word that I'll be sending his body to your mansion in pieces."

"Wait! Steve, you don't need to do this," Ben said, trying not to sound desperate while he watched, helpless as the other man walked away. "I'll give you the money, I swear. Let Riley go…or at least just let me talk to him…"

"Later, Benny boy." Stephen waved before he rounded the corner and was gone, leaving Ben to stare in horrified disbelief.

* * *

Abigail was just about to leave her office when her phone buzzed at her.

"Ugh, Conner…" she moaned, not wanting to hear from the man who was constantly trying to woo her, despite her insistence that she was in fact in a very serious relationship. "Abigail Chase," she mumbled monotonically into the phone receiver.

"Abigail! It's me, it's Ben…"

"Ben?" Not the voice she expected to hear, and it certainly wasn't the tone she would have expected from her fiancé. He was talking very quickly with panic laced in his voice. But from what she knew about Ben, he could have been flustered over something very silly. Or at least, that's what she hoped for. "Ben, what's wrong?"

She heard him take a deep breath. "I ran into this guy I used to know, Steve, and we had coffee and talked but then he started saying some really crazy stuff and I didn't believe him but he had his cell phone but then again anyone could have that cell phone but when I checked the apartment he was gone and I don't know where the Ferrari is and—"

Abigail cut him off mid rambling when she figured out who he was talking about. "Wait, Riley's gone? And _who_ has his cell phone?"

Ben took a shaky breath. "This guy…he worked with me a while back. I guess he wanted some of the treasure and knew I wouldn't give it to him. I really didn't believe him at first…didn't think he'd be capable of something like this…but I've been looking for Riley for more than an hour and I can't help but think that something terrible must have happened."

"He wasn't at his apartment?"

"_No_, Abigail!" He was yelling now, so loudly that she had to move the phone away from her ear for a moment. "He's gone, Steve kidnapped him, and now I need a half a million dollars in cash by eight."

"Alright, just…just calm down, Ben," Abigail said, taking a shaky breath. "Everything is going to be fine. I'm leaving now, I'll see you in the house in half an hour. Okay?"

There was silence on the other line.

"Okay, Ben?"

"Okay," he croaked, his breathing heavy with emotion.

"Everything's going to be alright. I love you, Ben."

The other line was silent and for a moment she thought he'd hung up, until his shaky voice sounded in her ear again. "I love you, too."

* * *

Ben closed the phone and sat in his car, his fists clenching the steering wheel almost painfully. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breathing was ragged with rage. Telling Abigail what happened reminded him how absolutely furious he was that Stephen had played him like this. And Riley? Riley was definitely gone—kidnapped, probably scared out of his mind, and, worst of all, he was all alone. Ben would get the half a million dollars. Money was replaceable. Hell, what the bastard wanted wasn't even a lot compared to all he had now. But Riley Poole…that kid was irreplaceable and Ben honestly didn't know what he'd do without him.

He would give the money to Stephen and get Riley back in one piece. As much as he hated his ex diving partner right now, he knew deep down Stephen could never really hurt anybody. He may sound mean and tough, but he wasn't the kind of guy that would get his hands dirty if he didn't have to. Ben convinced himself Riley would be okay, as long as he had the money.

But he regretted now even bringing Abigail into all of this. He could probably pay the ransom and get Riley back before she even realized anything had happened. He was sure even now that as soon as he got back to the mansion she would immediately start voicing her opinions and try to tell Ben what he should do. Ben _hated_ when she tried to tell him what to do.

Especially in this particular situation. She wouldn't understand that this is Ben's problem. Riley wasn't kidnapped by some random terrorist or anything like that—this was a man Ben once knew and considered to be a friend. Ben should be able to handle this fine on his own, without Abigail or anybody.

With that last thought of self confidence, Ben nodded his head to himself, confirming his decision. He started his car again and headed back to the mansion, ready to argue with his fiancé if she didn't agree with his plan of action. But first he'd have to make a little stop along the way.

* * *

It was dark, he was cold, and hungry, and tired, and sore, and miserable…

Fear, and of course the duct tape pulled over his mouth, kept Riley from voicing all of these complaints to anyone that would listen. He didn't even know why he was always doing that—his whining never got him anywhere. And it definitely wouldn't help him out of the situation he now found himself in. Whoever had attacked him in his car was one seriously _bad_ bad guy.

Riley tried to shift his weight in a lame attempt to relieve the strain on his arms. When he'd awoken his limp body had been held up completely by his wrists and for a second he'd thought his shoulders were on fire. It hurt that much. After getting his tingling legs to finally cooperate, he'd managed to get himself into a crouched position, so his arms were bent a little more at the elbows, easing the strain off his shoulders. But now, what must be hours later, his arms were okay, but his legs were sore. Slowly and carefully Riley moved from his crouch and into a kneeling position. His arms were pulled straight again, but at least they weren't holding up all of his body weight like they had been.

He wished he could see what his arms were stuck to. Hell, he wished he could see anything but the blackness in front of him. It felt like the same substance that was gagging him was blindfolding him as well—he could feel the duct tape sticking to his skin and hair.

His stomach growled angrily at him. He had no idea how long he'd been left here, but it felt like days had passed by since he'd eaten anything, or seen anything, or been able to breathe properly… He'd never wanted to go home more in his entire life. He'd never been so scared, either.

But so far he had no idea what was even intended for him. Whoever did this to him had yet to make an appearance. If the guy was around, Riley couldn't tell. He definitely wouldn't be 

able to see him, and he couldn't hear him either. All he could hear was the rumbling of some kind of appliance, like a washing machine that never left the noisy spin cycle.

So if no one was with him, taunting him or hurting him…then what the hell was going on? He'd never done anything to anyone who would want to take some kind of revenge or anything. At least he didn't think he did.

Riley deduced that he was being held for a ransom. Of course! The treasure. Him and Ben had been on the news for months after the treasure was found. But now that the media coverage had died down and random celebrities and their many problems made the news again, Riley was easy pickings. A quiet kidnapping with a large sum of money demanded of Ben Gates. Riley hoped Ben would hurry up and get the money already. He didn't know how much longer he could take this.

All of his thinking left Riley's concussed head feeling very sore, and his last thought before he passed out again was: I wonder how much I'm worth?

* * *

_Right, so…Steve is original, obviously. I just thought for all the years Ben had spent looking for the treasure, he must have had a number of partners along the way. And surely said partners would be pissed if they didn't get any of the cut :) _

_And hey I'm glad that you guys are glad I've got another story up. You National Treasure kids are awesome, seriously. Oh, and InkStainedBlood you are extra awesome for sticking with me through the other stories I've posted, too :) _


	3. Indecisions and Consequences

**Chapter III: Indecisions and Consequences**

"Alright, Mr. Gates. What was so urgent that you couldn't come down to my office to talk to me about?"

Ben and Abigail glanced nervously at one another. They'd arrived home and spent the past few hours just debating what to do, just as Ben had anticipated they would. Abigail wanted to call the police—Ben wanted to keep the police out as Stephen had instructed. In the end, Ben had thought it best if they called in Peter Sadusky, not as a man working with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, but as a friend. The agent had agreed to come to the mansion without much convincing and managed to arrive in record time. He was very familiar with the couple's historical home, having been invited over for dinners and such after the whole Templar treasure incident. Ben was that grateful to the man for not putting him in jail.

"Listen, Sadusky," Ben said, not quite able to make eye contact with the man sitting barely five feet away from him in his living room. "Something…bad, I mean really bad—like _catastrophically _bad—has happened."

Sadusky folded his hands in his lap and looked thoughtfully at the treasure hunger. "Let me guess…this has something to do with Mr. Riley Poole, who, for once, is not completely engrossed in your shadow."

Ben nodded grimly. "You are the detective…"

"Now the only question that remains is did Mr. Poole do something bad, or was something bad done to Mr. Poole?"

When Ben couldn't respond, Abigail spoke up, sending a worried glance in her fiancé's direction. "We're pretty sure he's been kidnapped."

Sadusky's face never left that cool and composed look that he seemed to have mastered over his years as a detective. "'_Pretty_ sure'?"

"Well, Ben was called earlier and—"

"I got a call from Riley's cell phone, but it wasn't Riley," Ben said, cutting her off and ignoring her subsequent glare. "It was some guy saying that he deserved some of the treasure and now he's demanding half a million dollars in cash or he's going to _kill_ my best friend." Sadusky and Abigail were left staring at Ben, whose frustration and anger had been uncharacteristically voiced in his brief explanation.

"Okay," the FBI agent said after a moment of thought. "Those were the kidnapper's exact words, that he _deserved_ some of the treasure…"

Ben blinked in awe at the other man's acute attention to detail. "Yeah, it…it was something like that."

"And you have no idea who it was, or anyone that you might know that would feel like they _deserved_ your new found wealth?"

Of course Ben knew exactly who had kidnapped Riley, but he wasn't going to tell Sadusky that. He couldn't, for Riley's sake at least. Ben and Abigail had discussed their options and decided on a story wherein Ben was contacted earlier by an unfamiliar male voice using Riley's cell phone. Ben hadn't even wanted to get Sadusky involved, but Abigail insisted. She wanted to tell the FBI agent everything that had happened in the hopes that they could find Riley and apprehend his kidnapper. Ben had fervently disagreed, saying that it wasn't her decision to make. It didn't really matter what she said anyway—Ben already had the money. He'd stopped at the bank before returning home, put on his most friendly smile, and withdrew five hundred thousand dollars from his account. So that wasn't a problem.

No, what he needed Sadusky for was to find and apprehend Stephen Bindley _after_ Riley was rescued. Steve had specifically said no cops, and Ben wasn't going to risk anything until Riley was safe at home. After that, well Ben wanted the bastard to rot in jail. He and Abigail wouldn't tell the FBI directly who had kidnapped Riley, but they were going to give enough information that would hopefully lead to Stephen's capture…eventually.

"No," Ben said without hesitation. "No I heard the voice and I thought back to anyone I might know but I…I couldn't put a face to it."

Sadusky nodded, buying into Ben's lie. "I could get a team on this right away, looking into anyone who may be bitter about your treasure discovery for whatever reason—"

"Listen, Sadusky," Ben said, cutting the agent off mid thought. "I want to thank you for coming over and listening and everything, but we can't have a whole police force out looking for Riley. That's why I called you here and didn't come to your office. The…kidnappers," Ben cringed at the word, "said that if we went to the police they'd kill him."

Sadusky was skeptical. "And what do you suppose is going to keep them from killing him anyway?"

Ben hefted up the gym bag that had been hidden next to the sofa. "I'm going to give them the money, alone, and get Riley back by myself."

"And this is where we disagree," Abigail said grimly, folding her arms over her chest.

"The money's not a big deal," Ben growled, not even looking at her.

"No, this isn't about the money," she snapped. "It's about giving whoever did this the satisfaction of knowing they've beaten you. Besides, Ben, you don't know what's going to happen—they could kill you and Riley if you go, money or not." She took a deep, calming breath. "I think, with Sadusky's help, we can find the kidnappers and save Riley before anyone has a chance to get hurt."

"There's no _time_!" Ben was practically yelling again. "Don't you get it? I have until eight to hear from the guy and bring him the money. I'm not going to let anyone risk Riley's life."

"Ben…"

"No," he snapped. "In just a few hours they'll have their money and I'll have Riley back, safe and sound."

Abigail still looked furious at her fiancé, but she relented, leaning back into her chair with a frustrated sigh. Ben tried very hard to ignore the hard glare she sent his way.

Sadusky was the only one that managed to remain calm as he looked the two over very carefully. "What happens if everything doesn't go as smoothly as you've planned, Ben?"

The treasure hunter looked up at the agent and said honestly, "I'm trying not to think about that."

But Sadusky continued to stare the couple down, obviously not completely convinced by something.

"Please, Peter," Ben said desperately. "I just want Riley to be okay. _Then_ we can catch the guy that did this. After I get Riley back."

Sadusky sighed, knowing from experience that Ben Gates was not an easy man to sway from his plans once his mind was set on them. Even his fiancé couldn't change his mind, and Dr. Chase was a natural debater. It was a wonder the couple could take even a simple decision and not turn it into an argument.

"Alright. I am going to personally look into this, but I won't make a move if I think it will risk the kid's life."

Ben nodded, relieved. "Thank you."

* * *

Three hours dragged on since Sadusky left the mansion. It may as well have been three days—at least that's how long it felt like to Ben. He never thought eight o'clock would come. He'd spent the time pacing with his cell phone clenched in his fist, then sitting, then pacing again, then grumbling something incoherently to himself while his mind became lost in his own depressing thoughts. All he could see was Riley all alone, someplace dark and scary… And Steve, the bastard. Ben wanted to grab him by the throat and squeeze the life out of him.

"Ben, _please_ sit down," Abigail pleaded. "You're making me nervous."

Ben grumbled something and sank heavily onto the sofa next to her. He was barely there for a minute when he shot back to his feet and resumed his tense pacing. How could he possibly sit at a time like this?

"_Ben_…"

"What?!"

"Please, calm down," she said through gritted teeth. "You're acting like an insane person."

Ben nearly exploded. "You think I'm _insane_?! And how exactly do you think a _sane_ person should act when his best friend is in trouble?! Hmm, _Abigail_? Have you got any input for that one, since you do for every other little thing I happen to do?!"

She gave Ben a wounded look as a flush rose in her cheeks. She lowered her gaze to the ground but said nothing. It hurt Ben to see her like that and he immediately regretted raising his voice.

Ben took a deep, aggravated breath and finally sat down on the sofa next to her again. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean—"

"I know what you meant, Ben," she interrupted him. "You're worried about Riley. But don't you think I am, too? "

He nodded. "I know you are, Abigail."

They sat in tense silence for a long minute or so before she spoke up again.

"It's just…you're kind of _scary_ when you're worried," she said, turning to her fiancé with a small smile. "We'll have to tell Riley when he gets home not to get kidnapped ever again…"

She had said it lightheartedly, to try to disband some of the tension between them, but all she succeeded in doing was pushing Ben over the edge again. It was that single word—_kidnapped_—that was driving him crazy. This kind of thing didn't happen to him, and it sure as hell shouldn't have happened to Riley.

"And just how am I supposed to be acting? I wouldn't know—I've never had my best friend get _kidnapped_ before!"

"That…you know that's not what I meant," she snapped back, obviously surprised by his latest outburst. "I just think you're overreacting. Riley's probably fine…"

"You don't know that, Abigail," Ben yelled as he got up from his seat again to resume pacing. He didn't really mean to yell, or make her uncomfortable, but right now he wasn't exactly in control of his emotions as his thoughts were very, very far away. "You don't know Steve. You don't know what he could be capable of."

"Oh, and you do?" she retorted, glaring up at him from where she still sat. "You had coffee with the man—obviously you didn't think he was such a bad guy then. But then again, you thought the same thing about Ian Howe, and look how that turned out."

Ben gritted his teeth at the mention of another friend that had betrayed him. It was a low blow, even for her. They were just pushing each other's buttons now, each refusing to back down and give the other the satisfaction of winning their futile little argument.

"Steve was different," Ben insisted. "He's completely unstable. God knows what he's capable of…"

"Which is exactly why we need to call Sadusky into this!"

"Oh God, not this again," Ben groaned as the argument started to sound very much like the one they'd had just hours before when he'd returned home from the bank. "I let you call him and we told him what happened…I'm not risking Riley's life by getting the FBI involved!"

"But this isn't just the FBI, Ben," Abigail insisted. "It's Sadusky, our _friend_. You know he would never do anything that could risk Riley's life."

"I don't know that and you sure as hell don't know that," Ben shouted. "We don't know what Steve could be up to. Like…like if there are other people involved in this. Steve could have guys! Or a bomb, or…or an army of feral cats of something…I don't know…"

"Exactly—you _don't_ know. And even if you were able to get Riley back okay on your own, we may never find Stephen and he will get away with everything!"

Ben opened his mouth to yell some more when their argument was suddenly interrupted by the buzzing of Ben's vibrating cell phone. The couple immediately ceased their bickering and stared at the little device for a second before Ben flipped it open and brought it to his ear.

He cleared his throat. "Hello?"

"That you, Benny boy?" came the cheerful voice on the other line.

Ben growled. What the hell was _he_ so happy about?

"I'll take that as a yes…"

"I have your money," Ben spat. "I want Riley back. _Now_."

"Ah, Ben…it's always straight to business with you," Stephen chuckled. "You'll have your friend back as soon as I get my half a million dollars."

Ben regretted to admit that Stephen had the upper hand in this particular situation. "Fine."

"You know that park just outside of the city? The one on the river with the golf course?"

Ben thought for a second. "Uh, yeah…the East Potomac Park…"

"That's the one," Stephen said. "That's where we're going to make our little…transaction."

"I can get there in twenty minutes."

"Not so fast, Gates. I want you to be at the very bottom of the peninsula at ten o'clock sharp. I'll be waiting in the shadows."

"Ten?!" Ben exclaimed in disbelief. "No deal Steve. I want to take care of this _now_."

"Sorry, Ben," Stephen said smoothly. "It's either ten or never, and I'm sure you know which one your friend would prefer…"

Ben's blood boiled in his veins. "Fine, fine. Ten o'clock. I'll be there."

"Good, Ben. I look forward to seeing you again. And remember—if I see anyone with you, the deal's off and Riley's gonna be sent back to you in pieces."

Ben could practically see the smile on the man's face. He was overly confident and rightfully so. As long as he had Riley Stephen could demand anything and Ben would willingly comply.

"I want to talk to him, Steve. I want to talk to Riley."

Stephen laughed at his request. "I'll see you later, Benny."

There was a click as Stephen ended the call followed by a dial tone in Ben's ear. He finally lowered the phone and slipped it back into his pocket without a word. Abigail looked to him expectedly, waiting to hear what was happening, but Ben ignored her and hauled the money filled gym bag over his shoulder. He headed out of the door with every intention of sitting in his car alone with his thoughts until it was time to go and make the drop.

"Ben wait," Abigail called as she chased after him. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," he mumbled. "I'll call you when I get there."

With that he slammed the door, leaving a very flabbergasted Abigail staring after him.

* * *

He heard a weird sound coming from above him and at first assumed it was just in his head. He was pretty sure he'd been sleeping, after all. But the sound wouldn't quit, and he found himself focusing all his energy on hearing it once he realized it was not, in fact, all in his head. He just didn't like that it was forcing him to regain consciousness when he really, _really_ didn't want to. Because with consciousness came remembering where he was and that he needed to force himself to breathe through his nose. And he was feeling uncomfortable and achy and sick all over. Damn, he really wanted to pass out again.

Riley heard the noise again, but found that it wasn't really just some random noise. It was someone's voice. Someone was talking to him. Some _guy_, if he wasn't mistaken. But it was hard to tell what was being said through his sore and stuffy head. He tried to shake some of the dizziness away and moaned barely audibly through the duct tape. It was Ben, it had to be Ben. He was coming to save him and everything was going to be okay. He was going to go home and his friends were going to be with him, because for once in his life he actually had friends who cared very much about his well being. And he silently swore, after Ben rescued him and it was all over he would always check the back of his convertible before leaping blindly into his seat. _Always_.

"Ben…" was what he tried to say. It came out all mumbly and pathetic through the gag. But Ben was talking to him again. Riley still had no idea what his friend was saying, but he kind of sounded pissed and very un-Ben like. Riley wanted to call out to him, to tell him where he was, so they could go home and—

Suddenly any sound Riley could hear, the loud voices, the rumbling washing machine, all of it was drowned out by a sickening crunch. His breath caught painfully in his throat as he felt his wrists being crushed by something. Wait—how was that even possible? He was strung up, his arms wrapped tightly around a pole or something…what could possibly be stomping down on his wrists—

And there it was again, this time on his hands. Riley let out a strangled cry as the agonizing pain shot from his finger tips and traveled all the way through his entire pained form. He suddenly felt very sick again as weird colors flashed before his dark eyes. He let out another muffled yell and choked down a sob, trying very hard not to move so he wouldn't aggravate his injured hands. But he couldn't stop shaking, even as the blinding pain somehow cleared his head and he could suddenly understand some of what the gruff voice was yelling down at him.

"Little bastard," a man spat at him. "Ben…fucking treasure…supposed be mine…_ruined _everything…I'll show him…make you wish…never been _born_…"

The man's rants were nonsensical to Riley, and all he wanted was for his attacker to go away. Riley couldn't even hear what was said after that, as his hands were stomped on one more time. He couldn't even hear the crunch this time over his own muffled cries as tears flooded his eyes and slipped down his cheeks from beneath the blindfold.

If his kidnapper stuck around to say anything else, or if he even hurt him again, Riley didn't know. It took his remaining energy to keep himself breathing, and then to swallow down the bile that had risen in his throat. And when that was spent, not even the excruciating pain could keep him conscious as he hung limply from his injured wrists.

* * *

_Ouch… Just so you guys know, Ben acts all pissed off for most of this story. Understandably so, but his decision to leave Sadusky in the dark may not have been a good one. But Ben's a prideful guy and a natural leader, and as such he doesn't like it when people question his decisions. Too bad Abigail is the kind of person that doesn't like being not listened to. The result—lots of arguing._

_But hey I'm glad you guys are liking the story so far. Your encouraging reviews make me smile :)_


	4. Search and Rescue

**Chapter IV: Search and Rescue**

"That's five thousand hundred dollar bills," Ben growled, as he tossed the overly stuffed gym bag to Stephen who snatched it up and greedily peered inside.

The whole thing was so clichéd. Ben arrived at the deserted location at ten o' clock sharp and had to wait twenty minutes before Stephen finally emerged from his hiding place in the shadows for his money. Now that the bastard was in fact half a million dollars richer, Ben looked around expectantly for another figure, or maybe a car, or anywhere that Riley could have been. But there was absolutely nothing to be seen beyond the dim lamp light.

"Where is he, Steve?"

Stephen, looking up after being interrupted from admiring his newly acquired money, merely smiled at Ben. It was that cruel, sadistic kind of smile that made Ben's blood boil in anger.

"What did you do with Riley?" He had to force the words out through his clenched jaw.

"Just a precaution, Ben, in case the cops were with you," Stephen replied with the grin on his face while he shouldered the bag and fished something out of his pocket. He retrieved what appeared to be a white envelope from the depths of his coat and held it out to Ben, who didn't move to take it. "But see, I made this fun for you. I know how much you love following clues and crap like that, so I made this little game so you can find your missing friend."

Still, Ben didn't take a step towards it, nor did he unclench the fists that were now shaking at his sides. "This isn't a game, Steve. You—"

"I know, I know. I'm an asshole, I'm going to burn in hell, etcetera. You have to admit, you really did bring this on yourself, Ben." Stephen took the few steps to Ben when Ben still wouldn't move, waving the envelope around as he did. "Don't worry, I made it easy for you. You take this, find your friend, and we'll go our separate ways."

Ben kept his hateful glare fixed on his once treasure hunting partner, a man that he might have considered to have been a good friend all those years ago. "I don't want to ever see you again," he said, after a tense moment of silence. "I don't want to hear your voice and I don't want to hear anything about you. And I never—" Ben took an intimidating step forward, closing the gap between them with the angry snarl still on his face "—_ever_ want you bothering that kid again. I swear to God, if he's messed up by this in any way I will hunt you down and kill you."

Ben let out the tense breath he'd been holding and ripped the flimsy object out of Stephen's hand, never taking his eyes off of the other man's face. Stephen clearly lost their little staring contest as a flicker of fear crossed his face. Ben grinned inwardly—he could be a pretty scary guy when he wanted to be.

"Okay, Ben. Good luck with everything." Then Stephen turned with a wave and disappeared into the shadows.

As soon as he was gone, Ben dashed back to the safety of his car and looked over his "clue." On the front of the envelope a single address was scrawled. _23 Adams Lane_. Ben frowned. There was no town listed. There could be a million Adams Lanes in this state alone. Riley could be anywhere. Ben groaned in frustration as he pulled out his cell phone. He hadn't wanted to get Abigail involved in this anymore, especially not after their latest argument, but it was obvious he would need her help.

"Ben!" she answered, sounding more worried than angry. "It's been _two _hours! Where are you? Are you okay? Did you find Riley? Is he okay?"

"Hello, to you too, dear." He tried to feign pleasantries in an attempt to hide the anxiety he was feeling. The roughness of his shaky voice proved that he wasn't doing a very good job.

"He…he's okay?" She sounded just as nervous as he felt.

"I hope so. I've got an address and…" Ben trailed off, finally tearing open the envelope and dumping the contents out in his hand. "A key. There's a key with it, I guess to where ever the address leads to."

"So…"

Ben felt his anger flare up again at the useless word. "_So_ I need you to help me find where Riley is, because I have no idea where a '23 Adams Lane' could be."

"Hold on a sec." He did hold, until an agonizingly long few minutes later when he heard a frantic typing on the other line. "Adams Lane…closest to you…Ben…it's about an hour away outside of the city."

Ben groaned. The distance would explain why Stephen needed so much extra time before making the drop.

"Alright," Ben said, fishing for a pen in his glove compartment. "Give it to me."

Abigail rattled of the simple directions while Ben quickly wrote them down on the envelope he'd been given. They were straightforward enough, and Ben hoped that MapQuest was correct for once.

"Thanks. I'll see you later."

"Okay. And Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"Please be careful."

* * *

Ben kept his foot on the gas pedal the whole drive and thanked his lucky stars that there were no cops around to pull him over. The whole trip took no more than forty minutes. He'd even taken a few wrong turns in his haste, but eventually he made it to the address.

He stepped slowly out of his car in front of a small and inconspicuous house. He wasn't in the middle of nowhere, like he kind of expected he would be. It seemed like a quaint little suburban area, run down over the years, but normal looking just the same. What made the place seem eerie was the fact that it was the pitch black outside, and the only light on the street was coming from Ben's headlights. That and it was very quiet, unnaturally so even if it was almost midnight. Ben shuddered. Innocent suburbia never seemed quite so innocent after dark.

Ben walked up to the house, quickly patting down his pockets to make sure he was prepared for whatever would be waiting for him inside. Key, check…cell phone, check…pen light, check...switch blade, check. He didn't think Stephen was the kind of guy to involve others in his plots, but he had to be ready in case there was someone or something unexpected hiding out in the vacant looking home.

The front door was dirty and splintering, and the handle was badly rusted. Ben forced the key awkwardly into the lock and turned it. Except it wouldn't turn…it didn't even budge. Ben tried again, but it didn't work. He even kicked at the door, but it still didn't give way.

"Damn it," he hissed looking around. He'd have to break in through a window or something if he wanted to get inside. But still…what was the point of the key if he couldn't even get to whatever it unlocked? Maybe there was a back door or something…

The headlights of Ben's car were left on so he could see where he was going when he went to the house. His gaze followed the beams of light, which just so happened to be aimed at the garage, a garage that was separated from the rest of the house by an overgrown gravel walkway. Ben could just make out in the darkness the outline of a door on the hidden in the shadows between the garage and the house. He sped to it and found that this door was sealed with a padlock. The tiny metal key fit properly into it and after a moment of fumbling Ben was able to turn it the right way. He heard a click and flung the door open.

"Riley?" Ben called quietly, surprised at how much his worry came through his voice. "Riley, buddy, you in here?"

He fumbled along the wall for a light switch then flipped it upwards, only to have the bulb that hung precariously from the ceiling flicker and go out with a pop. The sound and the recurring darkness made Ben nearly jump out of his skin in surprise, before his heart sank when he recognized what was in the garage during the second it was lit up.

Riley's beloved little red convertible was parked inside. Ben knew instinctively that it was Riley's, because who else would have a Ferrari Spider like that around here, really? Ben walked cautiously around it, shining his small flashlight into every shadowed nook and cranny, hoping to find Riley sleeping peacefully in the driver's seat or something. What he did end up finding were the keys left in the ignition and dark blood staining the steering wheel.

There was no doubt in his mind that this was Riley's blood. That meant the kid was bleeding from somewhere, and had been bleeding from somewhere for a while. Panic made Ben move faster as he frantically searched the car almost blindly for anything that could lead him to his friend. Stephen had said something about a game. There must have been another clue of some kind in Riley's car. Now it was just a matter of whether or not Ben would be able to find it in time.

He tore through the car hysterically, checking the cup holders, between the seat cushions, in the glove compartment… But there was nothing. Nothing but insurance papers and some change and other normal car stuff. Riley had always kept his car very neat, almost obsessively so, and there was nothing amiss in it now. Still Ben searched, now looking beneath the seats and ripping up the Ferrari's floor mats. But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"Damn it!" Ben suddenly yelled. He slammed his hand down on the steering wheel in anger but pulled back when he realized he'd just put his hand in Riley's dried blood. He stared at it and the mess he'd made in the car. He'd most likely ruined whatever evidence of Stephen that could have been left in the vehicle. The police wouldn't be able to find anything anymore. Ben groaned and put his head heavily in his hands. Nothing was going right for him. And Riley was still missing…for all Ben knew, the young man could be dead already.

Ben took a shaky breath and eased his hands away from his face. No, he couldn't give up now, not when he was so close. Riley was probably in the house somewhere and Stephen had given Ben the wrong key as some kind of sick joke. That sounded like something he would do anyway. Ben would have to break into the house and tear it apart like he did with the car until he found his missing friend.

Ben was climbing out of the convertible when his little flashlight danced across the room and he saw it—a door, there in the corner of the garage, hidden almost completely in shadow. Ben didn't think. He just scrambled towards it, calling Riley's name again as he threw the heavy door open, nearly stumbling down the stairs that were there. They led downwards, into pitch black darkness. There was a slight rumbling coming from the basement, a sound that Ben vaguely recognized as being a very ancient water heater.

The tiny beam of light swept across the room from where he stood at the top of the stairs, revealing nothing but blank, moldy walls and beams of rotted wood. He took a step downward, illuminating the creaky stairs as he did so while his free hand hovered over the splintered wood railing. 

He came down another step, and then another…he was about a third of the way down when he saw something on the far right side of the fifth step from the bottom. He leapt towards it and gasped when he saw that it was not in fact an "it," but a pair of immobile hands wrapped almost completely in silver. They were bound around the wooden pillar that held the stair's banister with what must have been a whole roll of tape. Ben leaned over the rail and let his flashlight follow pale arms downward until he saw the top of a very familiar looking dark haired head…

"Riley!" he exclaimed as he leapt down the last few steps. "I'm coming kid, I've got you…" Ben stopped short and his breath caught painfully in his throat when he came around the stairs to where his young friend was strung up by his arms. "Oh God, Riley…"

Riley was on his knees, almost completely underneath the old stair case, stretched uncomfortably because of his bound wrists. Ben couldn't tell if he was conscious or not—his head was down, leaning heavily on his chest and there was duct tape wrapped tightly over his eyes and mouth. Ben only knew Riley was alive because of the harsh sniffling sounds he made as he tried to suck in a breath. Ben hadn't been able to hear it before because of the water heater, but now, kneeling next to Riley, the sound echoed painfully in his ears.

"Don't worry," Ben said as bravely as he could. "You…you're going to be okay…I've got you…it's okay…"

Ben couldn't help but feel like he was reassuring himself more than his young friend. He flipped open his pocket knife and straightened up so he could see Riley's wrists around the banister. The tape was wrapped around his wrists and hands, then around the banister pillar and again around his forearms. Ben had to make almost a dozen cuts before the sticky substance finally started to peel off. As soon as Riley's arms were free, Ben carefully eased the stiff limbs downwards. He heard a pitiful sounding muffled whimper of pain.

"You're okay," he said softly. "I've got you."

Arms now free, Riley swayed unsteadily on his knees before Ben caught him and leaned his body against his chest. Ben carefully lowered Riley's arms into his lap, gasping when he saw them through his pen light. There were splintered indentations on his arms from the old wooden banister and red marks from where the sticky tape had been. But what really horrified Ben was that Riley's wrists and hands had become bruised and swollen, and a number of his fingers stuck out in odd directions. It made Ben nauseous just looking at them.

Another pitiful moan pulled Ben from his terrified gaze. He lifted Riley's head, wincing at the stream of dried blood that covered the left side of his face. After a second Ben's shaking fingers found the edge of the tape that was gagging him. The stuff was wrapped around him at least twice, and Ben tried his best to pull it off without hurting the young man. A low, scratchy moan left Riley's throat as Ben pulled the sticky substance away from his lips.

"Sorry, Riley," Ben said. And he was sorry—genuinely sorry that any of this even had to happen to him. It was Ben's fault Riley was in this mess but somehow apologizing for it wasn't making him feel any better.

Ben was careful when he pulled at the blindfold and managed to only get a few strands of Riley's hair stuck in it. Riley groaned again in response with his eyes tightly shut and his face in a pained grimace. Ben could just see in the dim light the tear tracks that streaked through the blood and dirt on his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Ben choked as he gathered his friend's shivering body closer to his. "I'm _so_ sorry."

But Riley didn't respond other than to continue his sharp, wheezy breaths as he lay as a dead weight in Ben's arms. Ben wondered what he should do. He didn't want to move Riley and risk hurting him, but he definitely needed to get to a hospital. And the last thing he wanted to do was call Abigail again. Thankfully, Ben's decision was made for him when he suddenly heard sirens outside the house.

In seconds a mass of FBI agents and police officers had torn down the doors and swarmed through the decrepit house and garage with their guns raised and ready for action. They bounded down the steps into the garage's basement and illuminated the room with their bright flashlights. Ben didn't know why they were here or how they'd found him, but at the moment he didn't really care.

"Call an ambulance," he cried out in his shaky voice. "He…he's hurt bad."

The man at the head of the group nodded and lowered his gun. "EMTs are en route," he said to Ben. Another FBI agent was talking swiftly into a walkie talkie, informing the rest of the rescue team where they were.

Minutes later the steps of the garage's basement was swarming with uniformed people, including one man in particular that quickly approached the pair on the floor.

"Ben," Sadusky called as he suddenly bounded down the stairs. He fell into a crouch in front of them just as Ben raised his teary, astounded eyes to the head FBI agent.

"S-Sadusky?" he croaked in disbelief, afraid to blink in case the other man would disappear back into his imagination. "How…?"

"Abigail called and told me what was going on. I had a team ready as soon as I knew where you were headed."

Ben might have been angry and frustrated at Abigail for going behind his back like she did, but at the moment all he felt was numbing relief. He clutched Riley's frail form tighter in his arms and muttered his thanks to Sadusky.

Minutes later the agents on the stairs parted to allow the paramedics access to the basement. Ben reluctantly loosened his grip on Riley's body so they could quickly assess his injuries and strap him to a backboard. Riley was completely unresponsive, that is until they examined his hands. The slightest touch caused Riley to flinch in pain and let out a gut wrenching cry.

"Injuries to both extremities," one of the paramedics muttered. "Careful," she instructed her fellow EMTs. "Watch his hands—let's get him to the bus."

On the count of three they lifted Riley's unconscious form up the stairs and out of sight. Ben stood there, staring when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Go with him, Ben," Sadusky said gently.

He was surprised the FBI agent didn't sound angry or even disappointed with Ben's actions. "You don't—"

"We'll talk in the hospital," Sadusky insisted before Ben could even finish his question. "Your friend needs you right now."

Ben nodded his thanks and broke into a run to catch up with the paramedics. They didn't protest when he climbed into the back of the ambulance. In fact the pair of EMTs barely payed any attention to him as they were already fussing over their patient, putting an oxygen mask over the young man's face and starting an IV in his arm. They must have given him something for the pain so they could strap down his wrists and keep them immobile until they were in the hospital.

Ben felt stupid and useless just sitting there staring at Riley's unnaturally pale and gaunt face. All he could do was let the tears spill down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Riley…"

_

* * *

_

Yay Riley's saved :) But boo for how mad I am at that new Star Wars movie :(

As always thanks for reading.


	5. Breaking and Healing

**Chapter V: Breaking and Healing**

"Ben!"

Ben spun around in his seat and pulled his head up out of his hands. He blinked in surprise at the petite figure standing hesitantly in the doorway.

"Abigail…"

He stood just as she ran across the room, surprising him when she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Ben appreciated her comforting embrace more than she would ever know.

"I was so worried," she gasped, her German accent becoming more audible in her distress. She pulled back and looked deep in Ben's eyes. "What's going on? Is Riley okay?"

Ben shook his head sadly. "Still waiting," he croaked.

Abigail saw the emotional state of her fiancé and eased him back down into his seat. She sat down next to him, her arm never leaving its comforting grasp around his shoulders. Ben buried his head in his hands again.

"He's going to be fine, Ben. You should know that better than anyone. Riley's indestructible." She forced a weak smile onto her face in the hopes of cheering Ben up. He didn't even look at her.

Ben let out a frustrated sigh and abruptly sat up from his seat again. "I just…Damn it!" He sent a furious kick to an unsuspecting magazine rack. Papers floated to the ground, but Ben was oblivious. "This should never have happened," he growled as he pounded his fist against the wall. "Not to him. Not to Riley."

"Ben…" Abigail said, shocked and a little frightened by his sudden outburst. She was very glad for both of them that there was no one else in the small waiting room.

"It's all my fault."

Ben's voice had softened significantly and Abigail felt that the anger from his outburst was gone, leaving him an emotional wreck. She stood and placed a gentle hand on his back. She looked up at his face and was almost surprised to see his red rimmed, tearful eyes focused on the blank wall. "Ben?"

He let out a shuddering sigh and squeezed his eyes shut. "It's my fault this happened. I _let_ this happen to him."

"Hey," Abigail said loudly, trying to get him out of this depressing funk. "It was _not_ your fault. It was that bastard that did this to Riley and you were there to save him. You saved him, Ben. Look at me."

He did, and a tear slipped down his cheek.

"Don't even think of beating yourself up about this. You of all people need to be brave for your friend."

He stared at her for another tense minute before letting out a shuddering breath. He wanted to thank her for being there for him, for helping him when he needed her. He wanted to apologize for the way he'd been acting. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her. Instead he nodded, not trusting his voice to speak without breaking.

"Good," Abigail said softly before standing on her tip toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Now let's clean up this mess you made before the doctors decide to kick us out."

He nodded again and bent down to help her pick up the magazines and brochures that littered the floor. Neither of them spoke—in fact the only sounds that broke the painful silence were the occasional sniffles and labored breaths that came from Ben. Then they sat back in their uncomfortable seats, Abigail with her head leaning against Ben's chest while he stared straight ahead at nothing.

"I…I called Sadusky," Abigail said quietly after a moment of silence. She stayed still in Ben's arms, but didn't make eye contact as though she was feeling guilty of something. "After you called and told me where you were going, I called him and told him to go after you."

Ben let out a shaky sigh, still unsure if he was really angry, or just upset.

"I didn't know what else to do, Ben," she said in her own defense. "I thought you were in trouble and Sadusky would be able to help…"

"No," Ben said calmly before she could continue to explain herself. "You did the right thing. If the FBI hadn't come, I don't know how I would've gotten out of there with Riley…like he was…" He trailed off, trying to shake away the image that had appeared in his head.

Abigail turned her head to look him in the eye with a smirk on her face. "You mean you're not going to…_flip out_ because I made a decision without you?"

He shook his head without returning her smile. In fact he didn't even look at her. His mind was still miles away. "No," he muttered. "You were right. I just…I don't want to argue anymore."

"Good," she said as she snuggled against his chest. "I don't want to argue either."

* * *

Ben didn't remember falling asleep, but he found himself suddenly jerked into awareness by an unfamiliar voice calling his name.

"Mr. Benjamin Gates?"

He slowly pried his eyes open and looked up at a man in a white coat, clip board in hand. This must have been Riley's doctor. Ben was on his feet in a second with Abigail following suit.

"Yes that's me. I'm Ben Gates." The doctor looked questioningly in Abigail's direction, and Ben added, "Abigail Chase—my fiancé."

"And you are both here regarding Riley Poole?"

Ben and Abigail both nodded, neither of them daring to even breathe.

The doctor actually smiled at their reaction. "He's going to be okay, you can relax." He motioned for them to take their seats again. They did and he sat across from them. "I'm Dr. Malone and I've been treating your friend since he came in. Our main concern when he arrived was that he was dehydrated and his breathing was more labored than it should have been. We had him on a vent, but he's doing better now and breathing on his own just fine. He has a pretty rough gash on his forehead and has suffered a minor concussion, but we've been able to rule any sort of serious cranial injury."

"What about his hands?" Ben spoke up impatiently as he recalled all too clearly what Riley's bruised and twisted hands looked like.

At this Dr. Malone's smile fell slightly. "And here it gets a little more serious. We'll go from left to right." He took a deep breath and read the information of his chart. "Left wrist is broken, there are three fractured bones in his hand, and his pointer and middle fingers have been broken pretty badly, while the thumb and ring finger are most likely sprained. Now to the right…the wrist suffered a sprain and possible a fracture. It's hard to tell this early because of the swelling. There are a couple of bones broken in this hand, his thumb was dislocated, and his pointer and middle fingers have been sprained."

The couple was left in stunned silence as their brains processed this information. Riley's hands were probably the most important parts of his body, besides his ever active tongue. The kid was genius with a computer, but it sounded like it would be a long time before Riley could even hold a mouse again, or function normally with anything for that matter.

Ben finally cleared his throat to break the silence. "Can…can we go see him?"

"Yes he was just awake and asking for you as a matter of fact. Apparently he didn't believe he was in a hospital. He's been out of it all morning and he's become a little…_loopy_ from the painkillers, so it's hard to say what kind of a mental state he's in from the ordeal. I think, though, that with friends like you, he'll be able to get through this."

Abigail beamed at the doctor. Ben nodded his thanks. They all stood at once and Dr. Malone led them down the hall of the ICU. He stopped in front of a door, whose window blinds had been shut, hiding the small room beyond it from view.

"You two can stay as long as you need, but I really want Mr. Poole—"

"Riley," Ben corrected quickly, knowing his young friend hated being referred to as a "Mr." anything.

"_Riley_, should get some rest while he can."

"We understand, doctor," Abigail spoke up. "Thank you for everything."

"Just doing my job."

With that, Dr. Malone opened the door and held it so Ben and Abigail could enter the dimly lit hospital room where Riley was staying. The space was tiny, and far from homely. White washed walls surrounded a metal bed frame covered in pale, starch sheets that sat in the center of the room. This was where Riley was, perched up slightly by his many pillows, staring into space through heavily lidded and bloodshot eyes. When he heard the door open he snapped to attention and squinted in the direction of the noise.

"Riley," Ben acknowledged shakily.

At the sound of his friend's voice Riley knew at once who was there to see him and his panic melted with a short, relieved sigh.

"Ben, Abigail…hey guys."

Ben cringed inwardly at how rough and weak sounding his friend's voice was. He also sounded a little stuffier than usual, and his breath still came in weak, ragged gasps. He may not have to be intubated, but he was still assisted by the oxygen tube that was kept under his nostrils.

"Hi, Riley," Abigail said softly, taking quick strides into the room.

Ben, in the mean time, had dashed around her to Riley's bedside without a word and plopped down in the chair that had been left there. Riley's foggy gaze followed Ben to his seat and stared at him. Ben felt tears prickle in his eyes again just looking at his pale friend. Even Riley's once bright blue eyes seemed to have lost their luster.

"Riley, I…" But Ben couldn't bring himself to apologize again—he feared if he did he'd break down right there, and that couldn't be good for Riley's already damaged psyche. Instead he forced a slight smile and asked, "How are you feeling, buddy?"

Stupid question, Ben knew. Besides the bandaged cut on his brow, there was a bruise on Riley's cheek and faint red marks still striping his face where the duct tape had been tightly wound for so long. Even if it weren't for the obvious injuries on his face Ben could easily tell Riley was far from feeling good.

"I dunno," Riley mumbled with a slight shrug. "Pretty…weird. Like…I'm in space…are we…in space?"

Ben might have laughed had this been any other situation. Instead he shook his head. "Uh, no. That's probably from the pain killers. They've got you on some pretty powerful stuff."

"Yeah," Riley muttered, his eyes leaving Ben's as they peered downward to where his hands were resting above the bed sheets that covered his body. "That's good."

Ben had followed Riley's gaze to his hands and couldn't help but wince. Both wrists and hands were wrapped in tight splinted bandages, and the few of his broken and sprained fingers were held still in metal braces. Even the little bit of flesh and the few fingers that hadn't been bandaged were badly bruised. Suddenly the pain his friend must have been feeling caught up with Ben.

"Riley I'm so sorry this happened," Ben said quickly, his voice cracking while he fought desperately to keep a brave façade for his friend's sake.

"Okay…I will…" Riley mumbled, though Ben didn't even think the young man comprehended what was said. Riley wasn't exactly staring at his hands—his eyes were unfocused and barely open as he started to lose consciousness again.

Abigail, who had taken to standing next to Ben's chair, decided to speak up while the boys were silent. "You should get some rest Riley," she said, her voice cracking just as Ben's had. "Doctor's orders, you know."

Riley sighed deeply, which resulted in a painful sounding coughing fit that was over as swiftly as it began. He took a few deep, shaky breaths and closed his eyes. "…'m tired," he groaned as he laid his head deeply in the pillow. Within seconds he was asleep, breathing deeply with the help of the oxygen under his nose.

Ben and Abigail were quiet after that, listening only to the beeping of the machines that were keeping track of Riley's vital signs and ultimately ensuring the young man stayed alive. 

Abigail had pulled a chair up next to Ben's and hastily wiped tears out of her eyes. Ben didn't even bother. His tears flowed freely and silently down his face as he stared down at now his comatose friend.

* * *

"His hands were the worst of it?"

Ben nodded, unable to find his voice. He watched from his seat as Agent Sadusky took the few steps to Riley's bedside and stopped, looking down at the young man while he slept.

"Poor kid," he said sympathetically.

Abigail clasped Ben's hand in hers. It was the most emotion the couple had ever seen coming from the FBI agent, and they both inwardly smiled, glad that this man cared as much for their friend as they did.

"But he's alive, and he'll be okay. That's all that matters." Sadusky never took his eyes from Riley's pale face even as he spoke to the couple sitting on the other side of the bed. "You came in this morning, right Ben? Has he woken up since?"

"Um," Ben cleared his throat and attempted to swallow the emotional lump that was stuck there. He was about to speak when Abigail squeezed his hand gently and answered for him.

"He was conscious about a…a few of hours ago."

Sadusky looked up. "Did he say anything about what happened to him?"

Abigail shook her head. "No, he didn't say much of anything. He was pretty…out of it anyway because of the pain killers."

Sadusky just nodded and lowered his gaze to Riley's face again. "As soon as he wakes up I want you to contact me. I'm going to need to hear from him everything that happened. Hopefully it'll help us find his kidnappers." He looked at Ben. "I'd like to get your statement too, Ben, since you were so keen on making the drop on your own."

"I told you the money wasn't important," Ben croaked.

"Yes but if you'd had the police with you, we could have apprehended the kidnappers _and_ saved Riley."

Abigail nodded her agreement. "He's right, you know—"

"It doesn't matter," Ben spat as he pulled out of her grasp. "He still would have been hurt…nothing would have changed."

"Except we would have the people who hurt him in jail right now," Sadusky said calmly in response to Ben's rising frustration.

Ben groaned and buried his face in his hands. "There was only one guy."

Sadusky raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Ben was going to explain his story when he saw Riley's prone form between his fingers. He watched for a minute as his young friend's chest rose and fell in a peaceful, drug induced sleep. "I'll tell you what happened," he mumbled. "But not here."

The FBI agent nodded. "I understand. Let's take this out in the hall, then."

Ben forced himself to his feet and finally pried his eyes from his hurt friend. Instead he met the gaze of his fiancé, who frowned and raised an eyebrow at him. Abigail didn't need to say a word—Ben knew instinctively that she was questioning what he was going to tell Sadusky. The truth, that he knew who had done this…or another carefully fabricated lie that would deepen the growing tension in their relationship.

"Just…just stay with Riley," Ben said firmly as he followed Sadusky out into the hall. She looked for a second like she wanted to argue before relenting and sinking back onto her chair. As badly as she would like to have heard what Ben had gone through the night before, she knew better than to argue with him, especially in his current state. She sent him one last fleeting glance before he shut the door behind him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner, but it's been a pretty hectic day, as I'm sure you can imagine," Sadusky said. He looked around them at bustling hospital halls. "We could find someplace more private to sit, if you'd prefer."

But Ben shook his head. "That's alright…this won't take long…"

He opened his mouth to begin, but nothing came out. He'd rehearsed his story over and over in his head, to the point where he even believed it be true, and now that it was time to tell it, he found that his tongue was being uncooperative. A nagging voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Abigail kept hissing at him to tell the truth. It told him that if he didn't, then Stephen would get away and no one but Ben would ever be able to find him again. And though Ben had threatened to hunt his old friend down, he really didn't want to, as he knew instinctively he could never really follow through with his threats.

Ben let out a shaky sigh and banished all random thought from his head so he could tell his story the way he'd intended to. Though it wasn't like any story he'd ever told before. He didn't say with enthusiasm, and he didn't embellish it like he usually did. This was a straight forward explanation, from when he received the call to when he found Riley in that house's basement. He was careful to avoid some details, though, like the argument with Abigail and the fact that he knew the identity of the kidnapper. He was still counting on Sadusky to figure that out for himself.

"…Then you guys showed up, and I went with Riley to the hospital."

Sadusky raised an eyebrow. "And you still have no idea who could have done this? There was nothing else you could have noticed during the drop? Not even a little bit about what the kidnapper looked like?"

Ben shook his head. "Like I said—it was dark and the guy was wearing a ski mask or something. I just tossed him the money and he tossed me an envelope. I couldn't even tell you how tall he was—he never came out of the shadows."

The FBI agent sighed. He never wrote anything down, which made the whole conversation less impersonal, but still meant that Ben had given him nothing to work with. "I guess that's all then. I'll still have to get a statement from Riley, though I doubt he'd have seen who did this to him. You said he was blindfolded when you found him?"

Ben nodded and cleared his throat. "Did…did you find anything out about where he…where I found him? Maybe the house'll give us something…"

"Sorry, Ben," Sadusky said grimly. "We've got nothing from the house. Apparently the place has been abandoned for months now, since the previous owner passed away and it hasn't gone on the market."

Ben frowned. He'd been hoping Stephen would be dumb enough to keep Riley in his own house, or a house owned by someone close to him.

Sadusky surprised him by giving him a friendly pat on the back. "Don't worry, though. We'll find the guy that did this and put him away for a long, long time."

"I hope so," Ben muttered as the other man turned back into the hospital room to say the rest of his goodbyes. Sadusky embraced Abigail warmly and told the couple to call him as soon as they'd heard anything from Riley. And then he was gone, leaving the pair in a very awkward silence. Ben pulled up a chair next to her and took a seat.

"Ben," she said in that demanding tone of hers. "Tell me you told him the truth…"

"Leave me alone, Abigail," he said sternly, too exhausted to fight with her.

She glared at him, but wisely didn't say anything as she folded her arms across her chest with a huff. Though she desperately wanted to know what had transpired between Ben and Stephen, and then between Ben and Sadusky, the defeated look on Ben's face told her enough. They had no leads, and until Ben came forward with what he knew, the man responsible would get away with everything.

_

* * *

_

All you guys and your awesome reviews made my day after that last chapter :) I hope this chapter wasn't too boring...this and the next ones are sort of explainy-filly chapters.

Oh and there is a Batman reference in there. Kudos to anyone who can find it...


	6. Hospital Stays

**Chapter VI: Hospital Stays…**

"Ben. Hey Ben…_Beeennn_."

Consciousness was just tugging at Ben's brain when he felt something lightly hit him in the shin over and over again.

"Stoppit…" Ben slurred. He shifted slightly as all kinds of pains shot through his body upon awakening. He must have slept wrong—horribly wrong.

"Come _ooonnnn_, Ben…"

He opened his eyes and found himself staring at a white tiled ceiling. He blinked at it for a second, his mind a complete blank as to where he was. Then the events of the day and night before came flooding back to him…meeting Steve and going to that house, then the ride to the hospital, then raw emotion while Abigail held him, then talking to Sadusky, and Abigail's accusing glare... And Riley…

"Riley!" Ben shouted as he forced his head up. He'd fallen asleep in his seat and now his neck was paying for the uncomfortable position it had been in.

"That's my name."

Ben was surprised to find Riley sitting up in front of him on the bed, his knees curled up to his chest as he kicked out at Ben's leg from under the bed sheets.

"Now come on sleepy head. It's time to take Riley home."

He was practically whining and Ben couldn't help but smile with relief. Riley's voice was still unusually soft and scratchy, and it sounded like he had a bad cold, but other than that he was good old Riley again.

"Riley, you…you're okay?"

He shrugged slightly and cleared his throat. "Guess so. I'm kinda hungry..."

Ben looked carefully at his young friend. He was still pale as a ghost and his dark hair was a ruffled mess, but the shiner on his face actually looked better than it had and his eyes no 

longer had that glazed over look caused by the drugs. In fact his eyes were bright again, and very alert as he stared at Ben.

"Helllooo? Anybody there?" He raised his eyebrows at Ben and waved a bandaged hand in front of his friend's face.

A wide smile grew on Ben's face. Riley was okay. Thank God.

"Where's Abigail?" Ben said, looking around for his fiancé and finding only an empty seat with a magazine lying open on its arm rest. He hadn't remembered her having a magazine with her, but then again he hadn't really paid any attention to her either. She tried to talk to him a few times only to have him ignore her in the hopes of avoiding another argument.

Riley shrugged again. "I said 'mornin' Abigail' and she got all happy and gave me a hug and a kiss, but I swear it wasn't on the lips or anything…and then I think she said something…about Sadusky…and…food…" His throat was barely able to keep up with his fast talking and he ended up doubled over in a painful sounding coughing fit.

"Easy, Riley," Ben said, placing a gently hand on his friend's shoulder until the coughing passed. "Has the doctor been in here yet?"

Another shrug. He cleared his throat and answered Ben's question with another question, "How long have I been here?"

Ben glanced at his watch. It was almost noon. "Geez," he said, surprised at how long he'd been able to sleep in such an uncomfortable position. "About a day and a half."

"Sounds long enough," Riley muttered. He kicked the blanket off of him and went to poke at the IV that was still stuck in his arm, wincing and apparently noticing for the first time that his hands were injured.

"Take it easy, kid. I think we should let the doctor decide when it's been long enough."

Riley, who had been staring intently at his bandaged hands, rolled his eyes at Ben. "But I _hate_ hospitals," he whined.

"I know you do, Riley, but you're hurt and—"

"What? No come on, I'm totally good," he said suddenly. It looked like he was trying to force himself to smile despite the tired ache that shone in his eyes. "Why don't you just take me home?"

"Don't you want to wait until you're…you know…better?"

Riley responded with a "meh" as he pulled his legs back up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

"What do you have against hospitals? I thought you of all people would like the attention."

Riley shrugged half heartedly and stared blankly at the sheets on his bed. "I do, just not this kind of attention."

"Riley…"

Whatever comforting words Ben was trying to conjure up were left unsaid as the door to the room suddenly opened. Abigail had returned, a bright smile on her face, with a nurse in tow. When she saw the worried look on Ben's face and the distant, un-Riley look on Riley's face her smile fell.

"Guys…what's going on?"

"_He _won't let me go home," Riley pouted, nodding his head in Ben's direction.

"Riley…" Ben started again, but was cut off as the nurse swept into the room and set a tray of food on the table next to Riley's bed.

"How are you doing today, Mr. Poole?"

"My hands hurt," he mumbled from behind his knees. "And I'm cold, and I'm hungry, and I wanna go home."

"Let's see…I can increase your morphine drip for the pain and get you another blanket…I've brought you your lunch…and…what was the last thing?"

Riley blinked up at the nurse. "Um, leaving?"

She gave him a sad smile. "I don't think so, sweetie. At least not until the doctor says you're better."

"No fair," Riley grumbled with a sniffle.

"You just need take it easy for a while," the nurse said, swiftly checking the various beeping machines Riley was hooked up to before adjusting something in the IV line. "Trust me—we'll be sending you home as soon as we possibly can."

She swept a fresh blanket out from a cabinet and draped it over Riley's hospital gown clad shoulders. Then she picked up the blanket Riley had kicked off of himself and laid it back on the bed, allowing the material to bunch up over his bare legs, causing him to blush slightly as she did so. The nurse didn't even try to move him from his tight position, knowing that he wouldn't react well to being man handled right now.

"I'll be back with the doctor in a little bit," she said sweetly.

Then she was gone, leaving Riley staring after her, a look of almost bewilderment on his face at having been treated so nicely in a place he had deemed evil in his mind.

Ben cleared his throat loudly to get his friend's attention. Riley's wide eyes gazed up at him, the blue irises clouded with sadness and hurt. Ben hated seeing him like this, so he put on his brightest, most reassuring smile and gestured to the tray of food that had been left.

"Let's see what Riley's got for lunch."

He pulled the top off of the tray and looked down at a bowl of some less than appetizing looking mushy soup, a smaller bowl of green Jell-O accompanied, and a plastic cup of water that conveniently had a straw sticking out of it.

"Oh, yummy," Ben said with false enthusiasm, hoping that Riley wouldn't hear the disgust in his tone.

Riley apparently didn't as he had raised his head and turned to ogle at the food with what Ben could only assume was a hungry look. His gaze didn't leave the tray even as Ben hefted it 

from the table to Riley's bedside. He kept it steady on his lap and lifted the spoon from the soupy stuff.

"You don't have to feed me," Riley grumbled, glaring at Ben, who looked to Abigail for support, only to find that his fiancé was still standing at the foot of the bed, staring sadly at their injured friend. "I'm a big boy, remember?"

Ben shrugged. "I guess so." He left the spoon in the bowl and held it out to Riley. "Just don't hurt yourself."

Riley sent one more glare in Ben's direction before blinking furiously to focus his attention on the task at hand. He moved awkwardly, and after a few minutes of pained hisses and muttered curses, Riley somehow managed to hold the spoon in the few usable fingers of both his hands. Eventually, after dropping the utensil twice and growling at Abigail who was moving to help him every time he struggled to regain his grasp, Riley managed to get the soup on his spoon.

"Ha! Look at that, see, I told you I could do it…" But his enthusiasm led to another coughing fit and he could not keep his trembling hands to hold on to the spoon. "Darn it," he rasped as the utensil fell with a splash. He made eye contact with Ben, and the two were engaged in an intense staring contest for almost a minute before he finally gave in.

"Fine," Riley pouted. "I don't even care anymore. It'll be nice to have everyone else doing stuff for me anyway."

"You better take advantage of it while you can, kiddo. It's not every day you can get these two to pamper you like this."

All eyes turned to the door to see a massive arrangement of obnoxiously bright flowers being hauled into the room.

"Aw, dad, you shouldn't have," Ben said with an amused grin as he watched his father struggle to find a place to put the elaborate bouquet. Patrick ended up setting the vase on the tiled floor next to the bed.

"I know," Patrick mumbled. He looked down at Riley with a smile on his face. "How're you feeling?"

"You…brought me…are those…_flowers_?" The corners of Riley's mouth turned a little, his first attempt at smiling since before he'd been kidnapped.

"Yeah, well…I couldn't come back empty handed, now could I? They have cookie baskets in the gift shop, too, but I didn't think that would be a good idea."

"Aw, come on…I _love_ cookies," Riley whined.

"You may love them," Abigail said. "But I don't think your stomach could handle much while you're sick."

"Flowers are a standard get well present for hospital patients anyway…"

"But they expect me to eat…what is this…" Riley peeked into the bowl Ben still held in his lap. "…Pukish looking substance. Gross."

"It's just soup, Riley," Ben said. "And if you finish your soup you can have some Jell-O, too."

"What's wrong with the flowers?"

"It's _green_," Riley whined. "I like _red_ Jell-O." He finally turned to Patrick. "There's nothing wrong with flowers. I love flowers. Especially these flowers. They're very…_pretty_."

Patrick grinned. "See, I knew you'd like them."

"But I really think they'd look better in my apartment. Can't you guys just take me home now? _Please_?"

Riley's voice was now strained with desperation as he looked from Ben, to Patrick, to Abigail, then back to Ben. No one noticed when two other figures entered the room. In fact they only acknowledged their existences when the FBI agent cleared his throat to get their attention.

"We're not interrupting anything, are we?" Sadusky asked as he and Riley's doctor looked at the tense expressions on everyone's faces.

Patrick was the first to step forward after an awkward silence. "Sadusky," he said as he shook the other man's hand. "It's good to see you again."

Sadusky nodded. "I only wished it was under different circumstances," he said softly.

They all moved out of the way so Dr. Malone could approach Riley's bedside. "Mr. Poole," he greeted kindly. "How are you feeling today?"

Riley lowered his gaze and shrugged. "Meh…"

He looked over his chart. "Your nurse tells me your hands were bothering you?"

"A little," Riley admitted.

"Is the morphine helping?"

Riley nodded while his eyes darted from the doctor to Sadusky. When his gaze locked with the FBI agent's, he immediately turned away again, as if he could will the man away by not looking at him.

"Riley," the doctor said softly. "Agent Sadusky wants to talk to you about what happened."

Riley sighed. "I figured that's why he was here," he mumbled.

"As long as you're up to it, of course," Sadusky said as he looked at Riley with a gentle smile.

"Ugh, whatever." Riley rolled his eyes. "Let's just get this over with."

The agent nodded. "Sure."

Dr. Malone passed Sadusky the chart that listed Riley's injuries. "I'll get you a copy for your investigation before you leave." He turned to Ben and gestured to the door, indicating that they should all respect Riley's privacy.

"We'll be outside," Ben muttered.

The doctor followed the three out of the room and nodded politely to them before hurrying off to his next patient. As soon as he was gone, both Ben and Abigail dashed back to the door and pressed their ears to it. They wanted to hear what Riley had to say, in the hopes that his statement would give the FBI some clue to Stephen's identity. Ben's father, who was still out of the loop, broke their tense silence.

"I'm flattered you called me at least," Patrick said as he recalled the phone call he'd received from a dejected Abigail barely a day before. "I really am, but this whole situation really bothers me."

"What, dad?" Ben snapped, his patience running thin again. "What could possibly be bothering _you_?"

The elder Gates glared at his son. "What bothers me is that you were both quick to tell me your friend was in the hospital, but I'm not even related to the kid."

Even Abigail looked confused now. "So…?"

"Why isn't Riley's real family here? Have you even tried to contact his parents?"

At that the couple fell silent as sad expressions crossed their faces.

"What?" Patrick said, befuddled by their reaction. "What did I say?"

"Patrick, Riley's mother…she passed away about a year and a half ago," Abigail said softly, repeating the explanation Ben had given her when she had asked him the same question the day before. "And he never knew his father."

"Oh," he muttered, obviously disheartened that he'd even asked. "And he's got no one else? No family?"

Ben shook his head. "No, dad. We're all he's got. I mean even if he did have any more family, he never talks about them. Hell I was with him when his mom died and I didn't even know it."

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "How's that?"

"It's a long story," Ben sighed with another shake of his head.

"We could be out here a long time. Enlighten me, why don't you."

Ben sighed, wondering where to begin. It wasn't a story he particularly liked telling, but he figured the least he could do was tell Abigail and Patrick the truth for once.

"Riley'd been working with me and Ian for a few months on the Templar treasure hunt. I knew him from when I was in MIT, and he was more than happy to become one of our team. The stuff he could do with computers…you wouldn't even _believe_…

"Then one day, we're all set for an expedition up in Greenland when he just takes off—disappears into thin air, without telling a soul. I wasn't sure if I should be worried or pissed. I figured maybe he got cold feet or something, you know. Either way I managed to convince a very angry Ian to put off the trip until we could find out what happened to the kid. We checked his usual haunts before finally breaking into his apartment. He wasn't there, but all his stuff was. That was when I really started to get worried.

"Another day passes and we're starting to panic when out of nowhere he shows up again, at my door with all his stuff, saying he was all ready to go to Greenland. Naturally I was surprised. I think I gave him a hug, then yelled at him or something…and then I think I made him a sandwich. But he didn't tell me where he'd been for the past two days. In fact he acted like he hadn't been gone at all. He even gave me a funny look whenever I tried to ask him.

"So I let it go for the moment. Even Ian let it go, though he was understandably annoyed about the whole thing. Riley just acted like the same old, goofy Riley. But I remembered his smile and all of his usual little personality quirks just seemed more…_forced_ than before. I had to find out what was really wrong with him, even if he wouldn't just come out and tell me.

"I got my chance on the plane ride while we were 30,000 feet up in the middle of the night. Riley was out cold while I was on my laptop doing some rereading of Templar history. His bag was at his feet, partially open so I could see his cell phone sitting with his laptop. Being as…_naturally_ curious as I am, I took it while he was sleeping."

"Oh, naturally I'm sure," Patrick scoffed. "I don't know what ever made you think you could take things that aren't yours..."

"Dad, do I interrupt your stories while you're telling them?"

His father raised an eyebrow and Ben already knew the answer.

"Never mind," he muttered. "Well anyway I checked his calls and found that only two numbers called him on a regular basis. Mine, and another number that I didn't recognize. But there was one other call, from some random area code, that Riley answered the day he left. Now I may not be as smart as Riley is with computers, but I know how to search for a phone number. I just wasn't expecting it to be from a funeral home in upstate New York.

"I did some more searching of local news from the area and found out that a forty one year old woman named Darla Poole had been killed in a car accident about a week before. She was Riley's _mom_, and hers was the only other number that called him regularly besides mine. He'd been gone for two days to go to her funeral."

Ben paused them and shook his head sadly as he recalled how badly he'd felt after he'd found the truth. "In all the time I'd known him," he continued with a sigh. "Riley had never really said anything about his family, or his mom for that matter. But she was all he had in the world and it became painfully obvious to me he wasn't dealing with it very well. Riley's always been good at hiding how he feels, but when it comes to coping he's at a complete loss."

They reflected silently on the story for a moment before Patrick piped up with another question. "Does he know you know?"

Ben nodded and cleared his throat. "Yeah. I told him I knew the next night in the hotel. He denied it of course, but I was persistent and eventually he gave in and accepted the fact that I knew. But he was still afraid to be…emotionally vulnerable I guess, even with me. I told him then and there that I would always be there for him, to talk to him or help him out when he was…upset or whatever. I haven't broken my promise yet, and I hope to God I never will."

Just as Ben finished the last of his sad story, the door to Riley's hospital room opened. Agent Sadusky emerged and approached them in the hall, closing the door quietly behind him with a somber look on his face.

* * *

_I decided to kill off Riley's mom just because it was easier than shoving her in here and then in the rest of the story. And no, this is not a slash story. Anything slashy is because Ben and Riley are such great friends or else it's intended to be a joke :)_

_Oh and because this and the next chapter was once one really long chapter that became two to bring my total to ten, I'll be posting the next installment tomorrow sometime. _


	7. And Emotional Breakdowns

**Chapter VII: …and Emotional Breakdowns**

"Well, that was quick," Abigail commented.

Sadusky sighed as he joined the group. "He didn't say much. It sounded like he had a rehearsed explanation that he gave very…detachedly. I didn't want to push him for information, figuring he'd talk more when he felt better."

"Well, did he say anything about the guys that did this to him?" Patrick said hopefully. "Are you going to be able to catch them?"

Abigail and Ben looked expectantly at the agent, but Sadusky shook his head.

"He didn't see or hear anything. He didn't even know where he was or for how long he was there. I'm sorry, Ben. But unless you or Riley can remember something I'm afraid we're no closer to finding the kidnapper."

They stood in dismayed silence for a long moment before Sadusky cleared his throat.

"But I can see what else we can find out from that house. Give me a call if you come up with anything."

Ben nodded. Sadusky put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Take care of him, Ben."

"I will," Ben croaked. And with one last goodbye to Abigail and Patrick, Sadusky was gone.

"It's getting late, Ben," Abigail said soon after. "I doubt they'll let us stay here much longer. We should probably go home…"

While Patrick nodded his agreement, Ben let out a defiant, "no."

"But, Ben…we've been here for almost two days. Don't you think you should at least…_shower_?"

He set his jaw and barely managed to keep his voice in check. "_No_, I think I should stay with my friend, regardless of what I might _smell_ like."

Abigail looked like she wanted to argue, but Patrick held his hand out in front of her.

"He's right. Riley needs him now."

She finally relented with a sigh and unfolded her arms that had been crossed tightly over her chest. "Fine, just, Ben…" Her expression softened as she approached her fiancé and put a gentle hand on his stubbled cheek. "…take care of him, okay?"

"I will," he whispered as he bent down to kiss her forehead.

Abigail pulled back and swiped away the tears that had suddenly formed in her eyes. She didn't say anything else as she turned and started quickly down the hall and out of sight.

"She'll be alright," Patrick insisted. "Reminds me of your mother—_very_ stubborn. Be sure to tell the kid good bye for us."

"I will, dad," Ben said as he and his father exchanged a casual, manly father-son hug. "Thanks for coming…and for the flowers. Riley really appreciated them."

"No problem," Patrick said with a nod. "Take care, son."

Then he was gone, just like Abigail and Sadusky were, leaving Ben to stand alone in the empty hallway. He took a deep breath and blinked the liquid out of his eyes, hoping to keep a optimistic expression on his face, for Riley's sake at least. He slowly pushed open the door to see Riley lying on his side curled up in his two blankets. He raised his head for a second to see who was at the door before sinking back down against the pillows.

"Oh," he mumbled. "I thought you guys left."

"Abigail and my dad had to go," Ben said. "But I'm going to stay with you for the night."

Ben could practically feel the relief emanating off the young man, but all Riley said was, "oh, okay."

"So…you talked to Sadusky?"

Riley shrugged. "Didn't have much to say," he said casually.

Riley's dismissive attitude bothered Ben especially, because he knew that deep down inside what had happened was upsetting to Riley but he just wouldn't admit it.

"We can talk, if you're more comfortable that way…"

"Ben," Riley moaned. "I'm _tired_..."

Ben sighed. That morphine sure did work fast. "Okay, Riley. We'll talk some other time." Ben took his seat and his gaze fell upon the still uneaten tray of hospital food. "You sure you don't want to finish your soup?"

"Yuck…if can even call that crap soup," Riley muttered even as his eye lids fell shut. "I'd like to see you try to eat it…"

Ben chuckled at that but Riley was oblivious as he'd already fallen asleep.

The nurse came back soon after to check on her patient and was kind enough to offer Ben a pillow and blanket. She took away the uneaten food and told Ben to be sure to call if he needed anything. Ben nodded his thanks and she was gone, leaving him alone to watch Riley sleep, even as he felt his own eyelids grow heavy with exhaustion.

* * *

Ben was dreaming, or at least he was pretty sure he was dreaming. Either that or he'd found some sort of psychedelic time machine and had gone back to the nineties. In his mind he saw the past, himself and his old friend, only both of them were seven years younger and having an argument that Ben hadn't thought of in a long time…

"I can't _believe_ you're still going on about this, Ben!" Stephen Bindley yelled, obviously upset if he was using Ben's name rather than some silly nickname.

"Come on, Steve," Ben said as though he had read the lines from a script and were reciting them for the millionth time. "We're so close. You can't just give up now!"

Stephen rolled his eyes. "You keep saying that…'oh, we're _so_ close'…'the treasure's going to be here, I _know_ it'…"

"I mean it this time. I did some more research, and I think we should dive further north. The ship could have drifted off course and sank out there somewhere…"

"Bullshit, Ben," Stephen spat. "You don't know any more than you did three years ago. Probably even longer than that. You just rope people in with your stupid stories about your grandfather…"

"They're not stupid—"

"…to look for this famous treasure that probably doesn't even exist!"

Ben glared hard at the man. "There is real, _historical_ evidence that proves the Templar treasure exists. No one's been able to find it yet because only my family had the clue. It's in the _Charlotte_, Steve. I know it is. We just need to find her..."

Stephen grasped at his hair in frustration. "She left me, Ben," he said suddenly. "She left me and it's all your fault!"

Ben was taken aback by that. "Who…your girlfriend?"

"Michelle was my _fiancé_, you heartless bastard," Stephen growled. "We were supposed to be married two years ago. But no…I met _you_ and thought, what better thing to give my girl than a shit load of treasure?!"

"That's not my fault," Ben said in his defense. "I told you to bring her along, to include her…but you didn't."

Stephen shook his head. "You just don't get it, Gates. You take advantage of people for your own ends." He snorted in disgust. "And you wonder why you can't keep a girl. I guarantee you'll never be happy, even if you do find your damned treasure. You'll live the rest of your alone, and you'll eventually die alone."

Ben was hurt by the comment, but he wasn't about to back down so easily. "I don't take advantage of people," he yelled. "You especially should know that—you volunteered yourself, so don't blame me for your problems."

"Oh yeah?" Stephen yelled back. "Well I'm un-volunteering myself. You'll just have to find some other patsy to follow in your shadow."

"Fine," Ben called as the other man turned to walk away. "I don't need you! And when I find the treasure, don't come crawling back looking for…for _compensation_! Cause you sure as hell aren't getting any from me!"

Ben remembered vividly how angry he'd been when the two fought, but after Stephen left, he was honestly pretty depressed about it. No one had ever stuck with him as long as Stephen had before, and Ben mourned the loss of his once good friend.

Stephen dissolved into black as Ben's flashback swirled together and reformed, and suddenly he found himself in a familiar setting. He was standing in the sunlight on a grassy lawn that was surrounded by a number of pristine buildings of varying architectural styles. He was back on the Massachusetts Institute of Technology campus, and by the looks of the "Class of 2000" banners that were hanging around, he was already at the end of his second and final year there, and three years older than he'd been when he fought with Steve. This was a particularly memorable semester for Ben, as he'd found his best friend in a scrawny, bespectacled freshman.

"Ben! Hey, Ben!"

Ben turned to see a slightly younger looking Riley Poole waving at him from across the empty lawn with a bright smile on his face, even if it did look like he was going to tip over from all the heavy textbooks was carrying in his bag.

"Riley," Ben sighed in relief. He'd never been happier to see his friend, and he was absolutely ecstatic to see him like this, so young and innocent…and safe. "Riley, thank God you're okay…"

If the younger man heard his friend he didn't show it on his face. He just kept smiling while he shouldered his bag and started forward towards Ben with a little spring in his step. He didn't get very far though, as he suddenly tripped and fell flat on his face with a thud. Stephen had configured himself into Ben's dream world once again to shove Ben's newest friend from behind. Ben glared at the man who now stood ominously over Riley with a confident smirk on his face.

"So, Benny boy," he sneered. "I see it didn't take you very long to find my replacement. But this one's just a kid." He emphasized his words by kicking Riley hard in the side. Riley curled up instinctively to clutch his injured flesh with a pained look on his face, completely oblivious to Stephen's ranting. "I'll bet he doesn't even know what he's in for with you..." He kicked Riley's now exposed other side. "…Doesn't know what a selfish son of a bitch you are…." He kicked Riley in the back. "…Doesn't know that you're going to _ruin_ his life." Another kick, leaving Riley in a trembling heap with his arms held protectively over his head.

Ben, meanwhile, was yelling to Stephen, begging him to stop. There was nothing else he could do. He was somehow rooted to the ground he stood on, forced to watch from a distance while the background dissolved again to black, leaving the three figures seemingly floating in a dark empty space.

"B-Ben," Riley whimpered, finally removing his hands from his face so he could look up at his friend with a terrified and wounded expression. "Why did you let him hurt me, Ben?"

Riley pulled himself forward an inch closer to Ben, and looked like he was going to crawl the distance whether his body was broken or not. But Stephen wouldn't have that. He stepped forward and stomped on both of the younger man's hands. A series of painful sounding cracks echoed through the darkness, followed by a short, but ear splitting scream that had Ben flinching from the pain it caused his ear drums.

He'd only closed his eyes for a second, but when Ben reopened them the empty space fell silent and Stephen suddenly stood barely a foot in front of him. Riley was nowhere to be seen.

"You can't just blame this on me, Ben. It's your fault this had to happen to him…"

Stephen nodded at something over Ben's shoulder. Ben turned slowly and gasped when he saw that he was in that dark basement again, standing frozen at the foot of the creaky, wooden staircase. And there, on his knees with his arms stretched high and his face wrapped with duct 

tape, was Riley. His harsh sniffled breathes echoed in the darkness, and Ben was horrified all over again.

"Oh God, Riley…"

Ben slowly opened his eyes, thankful for the pillow that kept him semi comfortable on an otherwise uncomfortable chair. That's right, he was in the hospital. It had been real—everything that happened with him and Steve and Riley—everything in his dream had really happened, in one form or another. And now, even while he was awake he couldn't get the image of his friend in that basement out of his head, nor could he silence the memory of that painful sounding muffled breathing. He blinked the vision away and swept his gaze to Riley's bed, sitting up completely when it dawned on him that the harsh sounds had not just been coming from inside his head

Riley was sitting up in his bed, knees tight to his chest with his hands stiffly held out from between his legs. His face was buried against his knees, but Ben could clearly hear, between the gasping breaths, stifled sobbing.

"Riley?" Ben quietly eased off his seat and onto the edge of Riley's bed. He draped his arm over his friend's shoulders, glad that Riley didn't pull away from him. All he did was shudder. "Hey, it's okay. You're okay."

Ben didn't even think Riley could hear him over his own crying. But, between sobs and shaky breaths, Ben heard a strained whimper.

"Ben… 'm s-sorry B-Ben," Riley muttered from behind his knees. He pulled his head up for a second and hastily tried to wipe away the tears on his shoulder.

Ben kept his arm wrapped around Riley and gently pulled him sideways so the younger man was leaning against him. Riley was resistant at first, but not resistant enough. Soon his head was against Ben's chest, his whole body shaking, except, Ben noticed, his hands, which were held away from the rest of his body as still as possible. They must have been hurting him. Ben had half a mind to call a nurse, but first he wanted to know what was on Riley's mind.

"Sorry? What are you sorry for?"

Ben felt Riley take a shuddering breath against his chest.

"I dunno," Riley moaned. He bit hard on his lip to try to stifle a quivering cry, and only ended up crying harder. But Ben could hear his quiet, shaky voice between sobs finally voicing what had really been bothering him.

"B-Ben…look what h-he did…to m-m-my hands. I c-can't do anything without…m-my h-hands..."

Riley had barely been able to get a couple of sentences out before he was weeping too hard to even speak. Ben wrapped his other arm around Riley and held his friend close as his crying turned into a harsh coughing fit.

Ben nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard something at the door. He had his chin resting on Riley's head and just managed to turn enough to see the nurse from before standing in the doorway. Apparently she'd said something to him.

"My friend his…I think his hands are bothering him…"

The nurse came up to them for a second and peered in Ben's grasp at the injured young man. Ben was glad she didn't try to separate the pair. In fact, after a quick glance, she was gone, saying she was going to get something else for the pain.

Then they were alone again and Riley was trying very hard to stifle his crying and coughing. After a long moment he'd successfully calmed down.

"Riley, don't worry," Ben said, now that he could be heard. "I'm going to take care of you. Me and Abigail will help you out until your hands are better."

Riley didn't say anything for a while, and Ben thought he'd passed out or something. But when the nurse came back into the room, now armed with a rather long looking needle, Riley's head jerked up and his eyes immediately gravitated to the shiny object. His wide, blue eyes glazed over with fresh tears as they stared at the syringe. But he didn't protest, didn't even complain, while Ben held him steady so the nurse could inject his IV line.

"Feel better now," the nurse said sweetly as she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Riley's breathing became a little steadier as he rested in Ben's arms. Ben was honestly surprised the kid hadn't tried to pull away from him yet. Riley was never really comfortable with these sorts of affectionate situations. In fact he usually acted like he had a personal space bubble that was at least ten feet in diameter. Ben had just assumed his friend had finally fallen asleep against his chest, until he heard a stuffy voice.

"Y-you still want me to be your best man?"

Ben swallowed the emotional lump that had formed in his throat. God, he'd completely forgotten about the wedding. "Yeah, of course I do."

Riley moaned. "But I can't even carry your ring, or do other…best man st-stuff."

"Hey, it'll be okay," Ben said soothingly as he gently rubbed Riley's shaking back. "The wedding wouldn't be for a while anyway, and I'm sure Abigail wouldn't mind putting it off until you feel better."

Riley sniffled. "Really?"

"Really."

He sniffled again. "I got snot on your shirt."

"That's okay," Ben chuckled softly. "I don't mind."

Riley let out a shuddering breath. "Crying sucks."

"You know, the only other time I think I've ever seen you even close to tears was in the treasure room, when we found those stairs. Remember?"

"Ugh…vaguely."

"It's okay to be upset or scared, Riley," Ben said gently. "Just remember that I'm always here for you, no matter what."

"My hero."

"And if you ever want to talk about what happened, I'm here to listen…"

Ben felt Riley shake his head against his chest.

"We can talk about it some other time…whenever you're up to it…"

"Nothing to talk about," Riley's stuffy voice mumbled.

Ben sighed. Riley was going to be stubborn, as usual. But when the young man was truly ready to talk, Ben hoped he knew he had someone to talk to.

"It's alright," Ben said sympathetically. "I'm going to take you home tomorrow. You're going to stay with me and Abigail until you're better."

"You mean I get to stay at the Gates mansion?"

Ben nodded. "We'll go to your place and get your stuff first. Then you can stay as long as you need."

"Yay, sleepover party," Riley said groggily. He was slumping further against Ben's chest as it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his head up. "I'll bring…the video games…"

"You should probably get some rest if we're going to convince the doctors to let you out tomorrow."

"Mmm…okay," Riley muttered.

Ben maneuvered Riley carefully back so he was lying on the bed again. The second Riley's head sank into the pillows he was breathing deeply in what Ben hoped would be a restful sleep. He pulled the blankets back up over the sleeping young man and absentmindedly smoothed them out with his hands while keeping his eyes on Riley's now passive face. It was in that moment, with the vivid dream still fresh in his mind, that he made his decision.

Once he made sure Riley was really out of it he slipped out of the room and took the elevator downstairs. Outside of the lobby was the only place in the hospital that actually got cell phone service and Ben really needed to make a call, regardless of the fact that it was one o'clock in the morning.

The call was answered on the second ring.

"Hey, it's Ben. Sorry to call so late, but I…there's something I need to tell you…"

_

* * *

_

Who's Ben gonna call…? No not the Ghostbusters, sillies :) You'll find out later.

_I'm going back to my posting schedule, which means I'll be back in three days, then three days after that, then three days after that, and then it's done._


	8. Attempted Normalcy and Resulting Idiocy

****

Chapter VIII: Attempted Normalcy and Resulting Idiocy

"Let's see…I need that, and that, and those over there, and that, and ooh, can't forget this…"

Riley had been pointing to various items strewn about in his apartment while Ben scrambled to pick everything up and pack it away. Now Riley was staring lovingly at his little laptop computer. He looked like he was going to try to pick it up himself when Ben grabbed the machine before Riley could get his bandaged fingers around it.

"I don't know, Riley," Ben said. "I really don't see you using any of your computer stuff in the near future."

"Oh, so now your psychic?"

Ben raised an eyebrow at the quip. Riley pouted and lowered his gaze to the carpet. Ben sighed.

"But I guess it wouldn't hurt to carry it around."

Riley looked up with a triumphant grin on his face. "Thanks, Ben."

Ben gently placed the machine in its bag and shouldered that along with three other bags that contained clothes, books, and miscellaneous crap, respectively. Riley had been very eager to get to his apartment to pack his stuff after finally being let out of the hospital that afternoon.

Dr. Malone had agreed to release his patient into Ben's custody, reasoning that being out of the stressful hospital would help Riley in his recovery. He gave Ben the filled out prescription of pain killers for Riley's hands, as well as a prescription for sleeping aids, just in case Riley had trouble sleeping again like he did the night before. By the time all of the discharge papers were signed by Ben and everything was settled by the hospital, it was almost five in the afternoon.

Ben had called Abigail in the morning and told her that Riley was coming to stay with them for a while. She didn't protest—in fact she seemed so happy with the idea that she offered to make a welcome home dinner for Riley upon their return. Ben had hoped to be done at Riley's and back at the mansion by six, but at the rate they were going, they were going to be very late for Abigail's dinner.

"Hey Ben, can I bring the—"

"I don't think you'll need it."

"But what about my—"

"We have those at the house."

"Okay…can I have the—"

"No, Riley, I really don't think Abigail would like that."

"I guess I'm all packed then," Riley said in a defeated tone as most of his stuff was being left behind. He perked up suddenly as a thought struck him. "But Ben?! Whose gonna feed my—"

At this Ben spun around to face his friend. "You've got a pet?" Riley was not a pet person. In fact he was the opposite of a pet person. He _hated_ little furry creatures.

"Two pets, actually. Admiral Ackbar and Octopussy."

Riley stumbled into his small kitchen while Ben followed him, now intrigued. Ben honestly couldn't picture Riley having any kind of pet, regardless of whatever their ridiculous names may have been.

Riley stopped at the tiny round table in the center of the tiled floor and froze as a horrified expression crossed his face. Ben followed his gaze downward to a small glass bowl filled with dirty water. And there, floating above the pond scum, were two goldfish.

"Oh, _no_," Riley gasped. He put his bandaged hands gently on either side of the bowl and was about to lift it for a closer look when Ben stopped him. Riley reluctantly lowered his hands to his side while he stared down at his now deceased little fish.

They must have starved to death, Ben thought. After all, it had been four days since Riley had even been home to feed them or clean out their bowl. And now their bloated little fish bodies were floating and decomposing in their own waste.

"They were just fish, Riley," Ben said softly, surprised at how hard his friend was taking their demise. "They don't live that long anyway…"

"I had them for _five_ months, Ben," Riley moaned. "They were the longest living fish I'd ever had. I was even gonna buy them a little…castle thingy for sticking with me as long as they did."

"It's alright, Riley," Ben said, thought he was still unsure if he should be taking this seriously or not. "We can get new fish if you want…"

Riley shook his head. "I can't even take care of myself," he hissed in a low voice. "How am I supposed to be able to keep a couple of fish?" He tried to clench his fists in anger but ended up wincing at the pain. He opted for kicking over one of the folding chairs set at the table before storming out of the room.

Ben, still startled by Riley's abrupt change in demeanor, stared blankly at the fish bowl for a moment before heading to the bedroom. Riley was lying awkwardly on his back across the unmade bed staring blankly up at the ceiling. When Ben came into the room, Riley didn't even look at him. He just kept his gaze upward and very far away, even as he cleared his throat to speak.

"I had fish when I was a kid," he said blankly. "I had this one guy, Gilbert. He was the coolest fish ever because he lived for like six years. At least I thought he did. I caught my mom switching my dead Gill for a fresh Gill when she thought I wasn't watching. I'd fallen for the oldest trick in the book. The ol' switcheroo…" He sighed. "I know they were just goldfish—they were all just goldfish—but these were _my _goldfish. Even as pissed as I was at my mom for replacing my fish over and over again, I know why she did it."

"Because she loved you," Ben said softly, finishing Riley's thoughts when Riley couldn't.

Riley gave an awkward shrug, his gaze still very far away. "Yeah. So…anyway…that's my depressing fish story. And I never want to speak of it again."

Ben nodded. "Sure, Riley. Whatever you want."

"Good. Now Riley wants food."

Ben smiled at that. "Alright. Let's get you settled at my place so we can eat."

"Sure thing Ben…just one problem."

Ben froze. Was he hurt? Sick? Still depressed about his fish?

"I can't get up."

Riley was lying across the bed, his head on the edge of one side with his legs dangling over the other end at the knees, his feet not quite touching the floor. From that position it was near impossible for him to push his tired self up without putting pressure on his injured wrists and hands.

"Oh," was all Ben said. He stepped over to Riley, straddling his legs as he wondered how exactly he was going to pick up his friend without hurting him. Ben bent at the waist so he could wrap his arms around Riley's lean chest and pull him up as gently as possible. But once his face got close to Riley's, he was surprised to see that the younger man was grinning stupidly up at him.

"Ben…hey Ben," Riley said softly. "I gotta tell you something…"

"Yes, Riley?"

"You know I care about you…like a _lot_. Like really, _really _a lot."

Ben suddenly felt uncomfortable by their close proximity. "Umm…"

"Let me just get this off my chest before we have to embarrass ourselves in front of Abigail." He tilted his neck up and Ben could feel warm breath against his neck as Riley whispered right into Ben's ear, "you're breath smells awful. Seriously man. When was the last time you brushed your teeth?"

Ben rolled his eyes while Riley snorted his suppressed laughter. Ben noticed then that Riley's eyes were glazed over slightly and heavily lidded, and he suddenly knew the cause for Riley's sudden strange mood swings and overall…loopiness.

"Riley," Ben said while he gently hauled his friend up so he was sitting upright on the edge of the bed. "How much medication did they give you before you left the hospital?"

"What," Riley said defensively. "I just told them to shoot me up with as much of whatever they had as legally as they could." He pushed himself lightly to his feet, wincing at even the slightest movement. "I think it's wearing off though, cause that _hurt_."

"Well, don't you worry," Ben said as he led Riley out of the bedroom. "I've got your pills, but you've got to eat something first."

"Oh, okay," Riley said glumly while Ben hauled Riley's bags up on his shoulder. "Hey, Ben?"

Ben paused at the door and turned to Riley. "Yes?"

"Would it be really…_gay_ if I said I needed your help to, uh, go to the bathroom?"

Ben actually laughed at that, but stopped when he saw the dead serious look on Riley's face. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

* * *

Abigail sat alone at the massive cherry wood dining table. Ben had called her hours ago to tell her he was bringing Riley home. She actually took the time to pick up "Get Well Soon" and "Welcome Home" balloons and decorations to set up in the foyer for their return. She made her best German dish, a stew, one that Riley could easily eat without needing his hands, and had set the table with her best china and silverware. Then she waited. And waited. And _waited_…

She had half a mind to call Ben back, but, after he'd hung up so quickly on her before, she figured that he didn't really want to talk to her for a prolonged period of time. Which was fine by her, for now at least. Once Riley was home and everything would be back to normal, she hoped that she and Ben could forget about what happened and go back to the way things were. All she really wanted was to be able to have a conversation with Ben without it turning into an arguing match.

But now, staring down at her steadily cooling dinner, she was beginning to think that she was getting her hopes up for nothing.

If there was one thing Ben hated more than an incorrectly referenced historical fact, it was uncomfortable silences while he drove. Especially with Riley, who would usually say something just to spite those silences. They'd finally left Riley's apartment and were on the way to Ben's mansion while Riley seemed to grow steadily grumpier and quieter as his morning pain meds continued to wear off.

Ben cleared his throat, hoping to distract his friend from his thoughts with some pointless conversation. "So, Riley…Abigail's making a homecoming dinner for you. Some sort of German thing I think. She only makes it on special occasions, you know."

"But I wanna milkshake and a Big Kahuna Burger," Riley whined.

"A…what?"

"Ugh. Never mind," Riley mumbled from where the side of his face was pressed against the car window.

"Oh…okay," Ben said. He cleared his throat again. "Like I said, Abigail doesn't cook a lot, so this should be really special for you."

Riley groaned. "But her cooking sucks worse than hospital food."

Ben let out a forced laugh. "You're right, it does. I don't know who told her she could cook in the first place…"

He looked at Riley out of the corner of his eye, hoping to see a smile or hear a chuckle or get a response of any kind. But Riley just kept his blank gaze out at the passing scenery.

"You wanna listen to some music?"

"Not really."

"Play a historical trivia game?"

"Meh…"

"Talk about what happened?"

"_No_," Riley moaned. "Stop asking me that."

"Alright. But Riley—"

"_Whaaat_…?"

"You're definitely okay, right?"

Riley sighed. "Yes, Ben. I'm definitely okay."

"Good."

Ben pulled up into his long driveway barely twenty minutes later. He helped Riley out of the passenger's seat and walked the barely conscious, quietly complaining young man up to the door. He didn't acknowledge the decorations there and Riley was too zoned out to notice them. They wandered into the dining room where Abigail met them with a smile. Ben had the nerve to ask her why she let the food get cold. She glared at him in response and whisked the dish back into the kitchen while Ben helped Riley to his seat.

The dinner that _eventually_ followed was very similar to the one held at the Gates mansion only five days before, only this time there was no Patrick. And there was no conversation either. Ben and Abigail just avoided eye contact completely, neither daring to speak out of fear that they would say the wrong thing and set the other one off. Riley was oblivious as he sucked down his meal through an elaborately bent twisty straw. Every once in a while his head would tip forward as he started to nod off, but Ben was always there to catch him before he could fall face first into his bowl. For twenty minutes this went on while the ticking of an old, somehow historically significant grandfather clock ticked away the minutes.

Finally Abigail couldn't take it anymore. "Ben…"

As uncomfortable as Ben was with the uncomfortable quiet, he knew he would only make things _more_ uncomfortable by talking to her. He was quick to change the subject before she could even begin speaking.

"Oh, Riley," he said loudly. "You must be _exhausted_. Long day and all…you probably want to hit the hay, don't you?"

Riley mumbled something indistinctly in response.

"Yeah, I hear ya, buddy."

Ben helped Riley to his feet and kept a steady arm around his barely conscious friend's waist. Riley's head tipped over onto Ben's shoulder while the pair headed slowly headed out of the dining room, leaving a depressed looking Abigail alone at the table. Just before he left the room, Ben paused.

"I'll come back later to help with the dishes," he said without looking back at her.

The moment they were out of sight Abigail buried her face in her hands and sobbed quietly to herself. Ben never returned to finish the dishes.

* * *

But Abigail at least managed to go on with her daily life afterwards. She went to work, came home, and shut herself away in her room while Ben tended to Riley, who was regaining his health and sense of humor very quickly. She couldn't even talk to her fiancé—he was conveniently avoiding her. She knew it was only out of fear that the two would get into another argument, but still…his silence only made her angrier.

And the dark cars with the tinted windows parked just outside the grounds of the mansion didn't make her feel any better either. She'd made very clear that she wanted to install a security system in the house rather than have mysterious figures keep watch over the mansion's grounds. Ben was keeping in constant contact with Sadusky, but both men pointedly kept her out of the loop. It was frustrating to say the least, especially when she could only assume that the protection meant that the FBI were counting on the kidnappers to return and finish the job.

But after ten days of surveillance, the FBI left their positions as more pressing matters came to their attention. Abigail was relieved to be able to come and go from her home without being watched, while Ben in contrast was furious at Sadusky for giving up. Abigail wasn't sure why, though. She didn't know how Ben could possibly think that the authorities would be able to capture Stephen without a single hint to his identity. For all they knew the criminal was long gone and spending his half a million dollars in luxury.

After a while Ben seemed to accept this fact. Abigail had feared that Ben would—in a crazed fit of rage—use his treasure hunting skills to find the man he once called his friend. But as the days passed, Ben showed no signs of revengeful feelings. He laughed with Riley and even tried a few times to talk to Abigail. She just wasn't ready to forgive him just yet. He still contacted Sadusky daily, and Abigail couldn't help but think that something…_fishy _was going on.

* * *

She entered the front door and stormed up the stairs without a word. A second later they could hear another door slamming from somewhere above them.

"Is she…okay?"

"Who?" Ben said dully, his eyes still glued to the television. "Gwyneth Paltrow?"

"You're _girlfriend_, Ben," Riley said with a roll of his eyes. "She keeps coming home later every day and she barely even talks to us anymore."

Ben was still glaring the movie in front of him, but he clearly wasn't watching it. "I know. I just…I _can't_ talk to her. I don't what's wrong."

"You don't?"

"No," he groaned. "I mean we'd been fighting but I thought we'd be over this whole…situation by now."

Riley sighed. "It's all Riley's fault…"

Ben stared at his friend. "Don't ever think that this was your fault. You shouldn't have been…and then, when you were hurt…we were just…"

To Ben's surprise, Riley laughed. "No, not that you silly little man. She's _jealous_."

"Jealous?"

Riley nodded. "Yeah. I mean, sure what happened…sucked…like a _lot_…but she's only gotten worse since I came to stay."

"Riley, don't think that either. She cares about you…"

"I know she does, but that's not the problem."

"It's not?"

"No. The problem is that _you_ care."

It clicked immediately in Ben's head and he wondered why he hadn't seen it before. "So what you're saying is…she's jealous of all the time I've spent taking care of you…?"

"And Bingo was his name-o," Riley said with a smile. "But don't worry—I know just the thing to make her know you still love her."

Ben looked surprised. "You do?"

"Hey, I've made many women feel loved and appreciated in my time."

Now it was Ben's turn to laugh. "Oh yeah? Just how many women, exactly?"

Riley rolled his eyes. "Okay so just one, God rest her soul. But trust me, you've got to surprise her with some like flowers or candy or whatever and she'll be all like 'oh, Riley, you're the sweetest boy in the whole world' only it'll be Abigail talking to you, and I don't think she'll yell at you afterwards when she discovers you've _accidentally_ set off a firework in the neighbor's dog house."

A smile tugged at Ben's mouth. "That's a good story, Riley."

"Thanks. I hated that damn dog."

"You want to talk about it?"

Riley gave him a funny look. "I just told you what happened, why would I want to talk about it?"

"Well, since your mom—"

"Ugh," Riley groaned. "Really, Ben? Really? You're _still_ doing this? We don't need to talk about _everything _you know."

"I know," Ben muttered. "I just want to help you."

"Aha! _That's_ your problem," Riley said triumphantly and pointed a bandaged finger in Ben's direction. "I've gotten more than enough help and attention from you. Now you need to dish some out to Abigail before you lose her forever."

Ben sighed. Riley was absolutely right, as usual. "Fine then, lover boy. What should I do?"

"Surprise her at work with some flowers, then take her out for a really nice dinner."

"When?"

"As soon as possible. I'd say around…tomorrowish."

"Tomorrow?"

"Sure. You'll whisk her off her feet with your ridiculously romantic gesture, I guarantee it."

But somehow Ben was not nearly as enthusiastic as Riley was. "What about you?"

"Me? I think bringing me along would kinda defeat the purpose," Riley scoffed. "I'll be fine on my own, really. As long as the TV works I'm a happy camper."

"Riley…"

"Ben. It's been almost two weeks already. I can even unzip my pants by myself now."

"But Riley…"

He raised his hand like he was swearing an oath. "I promise I won't try to use my computer or do any strenuous finger exercises while you're gone. I will be on this sofa when you leave and here I shall stay until you return."

Ben smiled. That was all he needed to hear.

"Alright, Riley. I'll do it..."

* * *

The doorbell rang and Riley's head shot up from where he was lounging on the sofa. At first he thought the noise was coming from the old reruns of _Tom and Jerry_ he was watching, but then it came again, echoing through Ben's massive home.

Riley sat there for a moment, wondering what to do. He was home alone, it wasn't even his mansion, and he promised he'd stay on the couch. It couldn't be Ben…he'd only left an hour ago, saying he would be a while anyway. He had to go to the florist, then go to the National Archives, then take Abigail to dinner—

The bell rang again. Maybe Riley should just ignore whoever was at the door and hope they would go away. But what if it was Ben's dad coming to visit? He might not have a key to the house, and he could have been sent to check up on Riley…that must have been it.

Decision made, Riley sprang up from his seat and bounded down the hall to the door, sliding smoothly through the foyer as his socked feet failed to make contact with the slick floors. He made a mental note to do that from now on when he was in their house and approached the door.

After some initial struggling, Riley managed to get his bandaged hands to unlock the bolt and turn the knob. Then he peered out at an unfamiliar face.

"Um, hello?"

The man was taller than Riley, about Ben's height. He looked to be about Ben's age, too, only with blonder hair and tanned skin. There was a bright smile on his face.

"Hi, I'm sorry. I was just looking for Ben Gates."

Riley fidgeted from behind the cracked open door. He didn't like strangers. "Well he's not home yet, Mr., uh…"

"Bindley," he said with a strange grin, holding out his hand to be shook as one usually does in introductions. "Stephen Bindley."

* * *

: O _Hopefully what comes next will be unexpected and enjoyable for you guys. Happy Labor Day my fellow laborers :)_

_Also this chapter was kinda half assed and got a little longer because I added the fish thing and the slash joke—I just couldn't resist :)_


	9. Victims and Villians

**Chapter IX: Victims and Villains**

"You left him home _alone_?!"

Ben groaned. "He's a grown man—he can take care of himself. Besides, he knows to call me if he needs anything."

"That's not the point, Ben," Abigail retorted. "He's still recovering from a very traumatic experience…"

"And if we keep babying him all the time, he'll never get over it. I'm sure he's fine."

Abigail sighed and shook her head sadly. "You really don't care about anyone but yourself, do you?"

"What?! Of course I do…I care about Riley…and I care about you."

"Sometimes, Ben," she said softly, "I just don't believe you."

Ben felt anger and despair growing in him again. He hated that feeling, and hated even more that she was the one to cause it. And he'd been in such a good mood before…

"Do you know how far I went to get you these?" he said shaking the bouquet of flowers until the petals fell to the ground. "I searched for hours just to find roses and anemones and orchids and whatever the hell the other ones are in the same freaking florist!"

"You didn't have to do that, Ben." She looked exhausted, like she was just tired of arguing. She wanted to accept Ben's gift, she really did. But she knew deep down that it wouldn't change anything.

"Fine," Ben shouted as he chucked the elaborate bouquet into the trash bin. "I try to talk, you don't wanna talk. What do want from me? Just tell me what you want me to do."

His yelling elicited a surprised gasp from Abigail's eavesdropping secretary. It seemed a large group of National Archives employees were crowding the hallway to watch the couple argue.

"My shift's over, Ben," Abigail said stiffly. "I just want to go home."

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. So much for those dinner reservations.

They took their separate cars home, which gave Ben time to calm down at least. He didn't think he could stand being in a car with her right now. He just kept his white knuckled fists to the wheel and his hardened gaze ahead of him at the bumper of her car. This had all seemed like such a good idea when Riley was saying it. Now Ben was even angrier than he was before. Not at Riley, though. He could never be mad with Riley, not after everything he had to go through because of Ben.

When Ben and Abigail arrived home, they were surprised to find another car parked in their long driveway. They glanced at each other, anger turning to confusion turning to worry as they rushed to the door.

"Ben, is that one of the FBI cars?"

"I have no idea...I thought they'd stopped watching the house…"

They feared the worst when they pushed open the front door, panic mounting when they found it was unlocked. Ben had definitely locked it when he left earlier.

"I _told _you we should get a better security system…"

Ben ignored her and dashed into the house. "Riley!" he yelled. He saw the TV on in the living room, blaring commercials on whatever channel it was tuned to. But there was no sign of Riley watching it. Then he heard a voice coming from inside the kitchen. An unfamiliar voice. "Riley, where are—"

Ben stopped short as he entered the kitchen, his jaw dropping at the sight before him.

"Oh, hey Ben," Riley said cheerfully. "You didn't tell me we were having friends over tonight. I thought you guys were going out for special dinner…"

Riley was sitting at the island counter, perched on the chair with his feet dangling childlike before him with his hands resting in his lap. On the other side of the counter sat a figure that Ben never wanted to see again, and had certainly never expected to see again. But here he was, with a bright smile on his face when he noticed Ben.

"Steve here was just telling me about your diving stuff," Riley was saying. "How come you never told me you were in one of those shark cage thingies? Sounds cool. Not for me though. Cool for you."

Ben just stared back at him, shock written all over his face. Kidnapper and kidnapped were sitting casually, in Ben's kitchen, drinking bottles of Root Beer through straws and chatting merrily to each other.

"Uh, hello," Riley called. "Earth to Ben…"

"Steve, what are you doing here?" Ben asked through gritted teeth.

"Well, I was in town, figured I'd stop by, see how you were doing and everything." Stephen was speaking so casually it made Ben's blood boil. "Nice place you got here by the way. Very nice…"

"I think we should talk. In private."

"Naw, it's cool Ben. I was just catching up with your friend here. Riley, was it?"

Riley nodded.

"By the way…and I don't mean to be forward or anything but…what happened to your hands?"

Riley looked down at his lap where his hands sat, bruised, bandaged, and limp. When he looked back up there was a bright blush on his face. "Believe it or not I, uh, accidently slammed them in my car door."

"Oh man," Steve said, glancing slyly at Ben. "That sucks…"

If Ben thought he'd been angry before, it was nothing compared to what he was feeling now. He thought he would literally explode into a bloody mess all over his kitchen. "STEVE," he yelled. "Get the _hell_ out of here!"

"Ah, God, Ben," Riley whined. "Why are you _shrieking_ like that? It's really annoying…"

"Riley, stay away from him!"

Riley was quick to get off of his chair. He'd never seen Ben this mad, and quite frankly it scared him. In his haste he stumbled a bit when his feet touched the ground and had to put a hand out on the counter to keep from falling over. He hissed in pain and just missed seeing the grin on Stephen's face. Ben noticed it and looked like he was going to beat his old friend to a bloody pulp.

"Boys stop," Abigail said quickly when she saw the fire in her fiancé's eyes. She took a step between him and Stephen, hoping to be the voice of reason in the insane situation. "Why don't we continue this discussion in the living room? _Now_, before someone does something they regret."

Ben caught the meaningful look she sent his way and growled his agreement. Stephen got up from his seat and headed past Ben into the other room. They made eye contact for a split second and Ben felt that cold fury rising again. Too bad for him he let it out on the wrong person.

"Riley," he shouted when he saw his very confused looking young friend start to follow the trio into the living room. "Just stay in the kitchen."

"But, Ben," Riley muttered back. He looked absolutely terrified, not at the situation they were in, but at the expression on Ben's face. "What's—"

"Sit down and shut up," Ben said before he realized the words were leaving his lips. "Finish your damn Root Beer and don't leave this room."

Shock and hurt crossed Riley's face as he slowly obeyed and sat back down at the counter, his wide blue eyes never leaving Ben's. Just seeing Riley look at him like that made Ben want to break down and at least apologize. But he couldn't. Not until Stephen was gone for good. He had no idea what the criminal was up to, but he definitely didn't want to risk Riley getting hurt again.

Ben herded a smirking Stephen and a flustered looking Abigail away from the kitchen and across the house to one of the mansion's sitting rooms. He hoped this one was out of Riley's earshot, because the last thing he wanted to do was have Riley hear the truth and get upset. That kid had definitely been through enough anyway.

"What are you doing here, Steve?" Ben hissed, his face bright red in anger. "Did you forget that I told you I was going to _kill_ you if I so much as saw your face again?!"

Now Abigail had to turn her shocked gaze in Ben's direction. Ben Gates—_her_ Ben Gates—was threatening to murder someone?

But Stephen was not intimidated by Ben's words. In fact he still kept that sly grin of his on his face as he just happened to take his seat in Ben's favorite chair. "That's what you said, Benny? Huh, I must not have been listening."

He shifted suddenly and reached behind, and for a second it looked like he was just trying to get comfortable on the seat cushions. Abigail gasped when she saw Stephen pull a small gun out of the back of his jeans. Ben kept his hateful glare, but was no longer advancing as Stephen pointed the pistol in his direction.

"So, you were saying," the villain said smugly. "I think it was something about trying to kill me? Was that it, Gates?" He let out a short, mocking laugh. "How about you and your little girl friend sit down before you have a heart attack or something? I swear to God, I've never seen your face this red…"

He waved his gun, indicting the sofa behind the couple. Abigail sat, but Ben stayed where he was his clenched fists shaking as he stared down his old friend. In his mind Ben was frantically assessing the situation and wondering if he could overpower Stephen without getting shot.

"Sit _down_, Benny," Stephen repeated in a malicious voice. "Before I shoot out your kneecaps and make you watch while I kill Dr. Chase and your friend in the kitchen."

Ben finally sat as his caring for his friends overcame his anger. Stephen's grip never faltered on the gun as he pointed it at the sitting couple, his finger steady on the trigger and ready to shoot if either of them moved.

"This is between you and me, Steve," Ben said. "Leave Abigail and Riley out of this…"

"Speaking of Riley," Stephen began as he ignored Ben's words completely and smiled at the frustration in Ben's expression, knowing that the other man had no choice but to listen to what he had to say. "Imagine my surprise when he actually opened the door to greet me. I had to wait forever for the feds to be gone, and then I was expecting to go to your house and just get straight to dealing with you. But no…Riley was there staring back at me like I was a stranger. I even told him my name and he didn't flinch. Hell, after I explained I was an old friend of yours, he actually invited me in and showed me around your house.

"We were alone for over an _hour_, Ben. I could've kidnapped him again, I could've even killed him right here if I wanted to. I thought about it—thought about the look that would be on your face when you find his body in your own house—but I just couldn't pass up this…this _opportunity _to humiliate you. To show your friends what a lying manipulative bastard you are."

He sat back, reveling in Ben's hateful glare. He looked Abigail up and down, his grin growing as he did so. The gun pointed at him was the only that kept Ben in his seat.

"See, my first idea was to go after your fiancé here," Stephen continued, nodding in Abigail's direction as he did so. "I figured that'd make us even. Since you ruined my only chance at a meaningful relationship, I would have been more than happy to return the favor..."

"I can't believe you're still going on about that," Ben cried out in his defense. "I never even _met_ the girl…and yet you _insist_ that it was my fault she left you—"

"Because it was your fault! You and your stupid fucking treasure ruined everything!" Stephen's uncharacteristically loud and emotional outburst surprised Ben into silence. The man was unstable, that much was clear. And with a loaded gun clenched in his fist, the last thing Ben wanted to do was upset him further. "You don't let people interrupt your stories, what makes you think I'd want you to interrupt mine?!"

Ben said nothing, and his silence was the all the answer Stephen needed. As quickly as hid outburst had come, Stephen reverted back to usual clam and collective smiling self.

"I don't want to fight anymore, Ben," Stephen said with a sigh. "So how about you just give me another half a million dollars and I'll be out of your hair."

"What?!"

Stephen's voice rose angrily again as he said, "well you asked me why I was here, so I'm telling you I'm here for the rest of my money."

Ben was livid. "The _rest_ of your money?!"

Abigail was too preoccupied in their dangerous situation to join in the angry exclamations. "Ben," she said quietly but meaningfully. "Ben, just give him what he wants…"

"No," Ben yelled. "We've already dealt with this—I gave you what you wanted, it was over. I'm not giving you _more _money just because you felt like showing up in my house!"

"You owe me, Ben," Stephen yelled back. "And you're gonna owe me until I say we're square!"

Both men stood up simultaneously with furious expressions on their faces. Abigail tried to clutch Ben's arm to get him to sit but he pulled out of her grasp. Stephen had his pistol raised and his finger tight on the trigger, when suddenly…

"Hey, uh, Ben, guys…what's going on? Why's everybody yelling?"

Riley appeared in the doorway with a very confused look on his face. No doubt he was drawn from the kitchen by the raised voices and the fact that he'd been left alone for a good ten minutes already. Even Ben ordering him to stay put couldn't keep Riley's curious nature at bay.

"Oh, hey there, Riley," Stephen said before Ben or Abigail could react to Riley's appearance. "We were just having an _adult _conversation. You know reliving old times…"

But Riley looked unconvinced. He didn't see the gun in Stephen's hands yet, but he could easily see that both men's faces were bright red with anger while Abigail's was pale with dread. Ben tried to silently warn Riley with his eyes. He wanted Riley to go, to run before something happened, or before Stephen said anything.

"I heard something about money," Riley said slowly, not quite understanding why Ben was staring at him. "Are you fighting about…money or something?"

"Or something," Stephen said with a bright grin that didn't quite match the malice in his eyes. "I was just finishing up a little story for Ben here. You know how much he _loves_ stories. See, I was reminding him of a recent business transaction we made and how I've decided that it wasn't nearly enough to compensate for him _fucking_ up my life!"

"Steve," Ben hollered back. "For the last time—I'm sorry you missed out on the treasure, but you left, it's over, end of story!"

"Well, he did help you, Ben," Riley piped up. "You could give him a _little_ bit…"

Stephen laughed. "You know, you should listen to your friend there, Benny." He gestured in Riley's direction with his pistol. "He's a smart kid…almost makes me feel bad for what I did."

If Riley registered what Stephen had said, he didn't react to it. He only had eyes for the gun that he suddenly noticed in the other man's hand.

"Holy, crap," Riley exclaimed as he took a nervous step back. He could've made a run for it then, and Ben wished he would have, but instead Riley stayed where he was backed up against the book shelf.

"Actually I'm glad you've joined us, Riley," Stephen said. "I was gonna come get you anyway. But as you can see we have a bit of a situation now, what with Ben being a manipulative liar and all…"

"Steve…" Ben hissed.

Stephen ignored him and continued addressing Riley as he took a step toward the younger man. "And hey, it was really nice getting to know you—_again_—but obviously Ben hasn't told you _my _story yet. See that's funny to me, because I would have thought, being the great _friend_ that he is, he would have warned you not to even let me in his God damned house!"

Riley had a confounded expression on his face as he looked from the gun, to Stephen, then to Ben. "I don't get it…Ben what's he talking about?"

"What _am_ I talking about, Benny boy?" Stephen scoffed in Ben's direction, his confident voice booming in the room. Ben was pleading with his eyes, silently begging the other man not to answer Riley's question. Stephen smirked maliciously at Ben before turning back to Riley. "Here's the thing, kid—I think it's _real_ funny that you could lie about what happened to you so easily. Slammed in the car door, really? Because the way I recall it, I _stomped _on your hands."

Riley went from a confused expression, to a blank one, and then to absolutely terrified as it finally dawned on him what Stephen was saying.

"But…but I don't…you were…"

"I knew the easiest way to get to Ben was through his friends, and when I couldn't hurt his girlfriend, you—as my treasure hunting replacement—were the next best thing," Stephen said, reveling in the fear in Riley's eyes. "I waited that night in the back of your car for hours. Sweet ride, by the way—I drove it while you were knocked out. Very nice. I'd never driven in a convertible before, let alone a _Ferrarri_…"

Riley's face blanched and he looked like he was going to be sick. He glanced over at his friends, hoping that they could help him out of this situation. But Abigail only stared back at him with pity in her teary eyes from where she sat and Ben was standing some distance away, staring out the window behind him. Riley wasn't sure if it was because he was overwhelmed with guilt, or if he just didn't care about what was going on around him. "B-Ben…"

"Oh sure," Stephen continued. "Ben paid the ransom and I told him where I'd left your broken body. But he never bothered to tell you any of that, did he?"

He took a final step forward so his chest was barely an inch away from Riley's face with his gun pressed into the young man's side. Riley let out a pathetic whimper and his body shook ever so slightly as all the pains and memories of what had happened came flooding back to him while he stared up at the man responsible for all of it. Ben watched with horror and turned all of his attention on Stephen, in the hopes that he could convince his old friend to just go away.

"Tell you what—I…I'll write you a check, Steve," Ben, said, wishing he didn't so pathetically desperate. "I'll write it for as much as you want, just put the gun down, please…"

"The money doesn't make up for what happened," he spat over his shoulder before turning back to glare down at Riley. "Do you know what it's like to lose someone you love forever, Riley?"

The young man swallowed hard while his wide blue eyes stared at Stephen. But he couldn't move, couldn't even turn his gaze away as he was paralyzed by fear. All he could do was let out a quivering, honest "y-yes" in response to Stephen's question.

"Riley…" Ben said softly. He felt helpless just standing there. But if he moved or tried anything, he feared Stephen would pull the trigger. He couldn't risk anything else happening to his friend. He just hoped Stephen didn't notice that he kept looking expectedly through window.

"Really?" Stephen sounded almost surprised, but still unsympathetic. "Well Ben doesn't know what it's like…how about we give him something to really be depressed about?"

He slowly traced the gun along Riley's chest and up past his neck until the barrel of the pistol was pressing hard against the young man's cheek. Riley was trembling now, but didn't make a sound as his large, terrified eyes continued to stare up at Stephen, who smiled deviously back at him.

"Yeah," he muttered insanely. "Let's deprive him of the person he loves most in the whole wide world…"

To Ben everything was moving in slow motion—Stephen had suddenly pulled the gun away from Riley's face and spun to aim where Abigail was sitting, while at that very moment the entrance ways of the Gates mansion were flooded with a SWAT team and heavily armed FBI agents. Two shots went off—one in Abigail's direction and another in Stephen's.

Stephen barely had time register what was happening before a bullet tore through the side of his neck. He dropped his gun with a gurgled cry and his hand flew up to his throat as he collapsed to the floor. Riley's face and shirt were splattered in Stephen's blood, but his shocked expression never looked away from the man who was now bleeding and writhing in agony on the floor at his feet.

Abigail on the other hand had had enough sense to dive out of her seat when she saw a pistol being pointed in her direction. Stephen's bullet whizzed past her, clipping no more than a few strands of blonde hair before putting a tiny whole in the sitting room's window. She stayed where she was on the carpet gasping with her hands held protectively over her head. She, like Riley, was hypnotized by the profusely bleeding man before her even as more people flooded the room.

She was yanked to her feet by a man in dark Kevlar and pulled gently away from the scene. Riley also had to be led out of the room by a SWAT member who was thankfully wary of the young man's injured hands. They were led to the living room on the opposite side of the house where they immediately sank down onto the sofa in numb shock, cartoons still playing in the background. When Abigail was finally able to focus her vision, she was somewhat surprised to see Ben already standing in the room before her, and even more surprised to see agent Sadusky standing next to him, barking orders at the agents that were still in house. And she was absolutely astounded to see the victorious grin on Ben's face.

* * *

Stephen was led away on a gurney with a sheet over his head barely ten minutes later. There was no doubt in Ben's mind what that meant. And even though the man that had caused so much pain to Ben and those close to him was deceased, Ben still didn't feel good about the situation. He wasn't really supposed to die, and Ben wondered if he would ever be able to wash Stephen's blood from his hands, let alone his carpet.

Most of the law enforcing agents left with the ambulance, while a handful stuck around to document the crime scene. Sadusky stayed and addressed Ben, oblivious to the traumatized looks on both Abigail's and Riley's faces.

"You were right, Ben," the FBI agent was saying. "It was just a matter of time before Mr. Bindley showed his face again. Though I am curious to know where he's been hiding these past couple of weeks."

"Oh, yeah," Ben mumbled, looking almost guilty as he sent a quick glance in his friends' direction, just to see if they were listening. "I guess we'll never know."

Sadusky nodded. "I suppose you're right. Still…it's a good thing you had that caller on you at the time."

Ben nodded stiffly and pulled a small metal gadget out of his pocket. It was a remote like device that would alert the FBI headquarters in Washington with a single, virtually undetectable click of a button. "Yeah…I'm just glad this is all over with…"

"Now wait just a damn minute," Abigail suddenly screeched as she leapt to her feet. She pointed a shaking finger in Sadusky's direction. "You sit down…the rest of you out, _out_!" She yelled at the lingering agents. Sadusky nodded at them and they bolted out of the mansion, looking more than happy to leave before she exploded in a fit of rage.

Sadusky took a seat and watched apprehensively as Abigail stared up at her guilty looking fiancé. They were silent for a tense second, before Abigail raised her hand and brought it hard across Ben's cheek. The slap echoed through the room, but was quickly drowned out by Abigail's furious yelling.

"You…you sneaky, manipulative, lying…_der Sheißkerl_!"

* * *

_Okay so this chapter got really, really long. I would have broken it up like I did that other one, but then I would have lost my total of ten chapters and I just couldn't have that. Besides—I figured you guys wouldn't mind a long intense confrontational chapter. And holy crap, no one can take a freaking joke… I actually threw that in there last chapter just in response to a review that asked if this was becoming a slash story. I had never even considered that, and thought it was amusing that my story could be construed in that way :) I have no problem with certain peoples, ah, lifestyles so to speak, but I would never even consider Ben and Riley to be any more than just really great friends. They're both clearly into ladies for crying out loud. So, in conclusion: I'm sorry if I scared anyone; please keep reading and reviewing; and I swear I won't tell jokes anymore… Okay, so I will still tell jokes when I can, because I at least think I can be occasionally funny, but no more slash mockery jokes for National Treasure, I promise :)_

_As a side note, I had way too much fun looking up German curse words for the end there :) I only hope it really means what I think it means…_


	10. Moving On and Losing Touch

**Chapter X: Moving On and Losing Touch**

"You did tell him! You told him _everything_, like I've been telling you all along, and you didn't have the guts to at least admit it me?!"

"Abigail…"

"No, Ben," she shrieked. "Why couldn't you tell me the truth? Too stubborn to admit that I was right?!"

"Abigail I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I did," Ben said defensively. "But shouldn't it be enough that I _did_ take your advice? You were right, okay! You were right the whole time…"

"And you, Peter," she said, spinning to look at where Sadusky was still sitting. The usually stoic FBI agent squirmed in his chair looking very guilty under Abigail's scrutiny. "I've been trying to tell you this whole time, but the second he—" she spat in Ben's direction "—breaks you bend over backwards for him! He should have been arrested just for lying to you in the first place!"

"This wasn't Sadusky's fault," Ben insisted while he rubbed at the still sore spot on his cheek. "I called him that night I stayed with Riley in the hospital..."

She looked horrified. "Ben that was two weeks ago. Two weeks! And you said nothing to me or Riley!"

"What was I supposed to do, Abigail?" he said back, his voice rising dangerously with each word. "Riley was hurt, he was _crying_—"

"No I wasn't," Riley interjected from the sofa.

"—so I called Sadusky and told him everything. Everything about Steve, about what happened and we…we worked out a plan."

"But you couldn't tell him when I said it would be a good idea, could you?" she said while fresh tears started to form in his eyes.

"I was scared, okay?!"

"We were all scared," she snapped. "That's no excuse for your lying to us."

"Abigail, I really wish we could get over this," Ben retorted. "It's not even that big of a deal…"

He realized he'd said the wrong thing just after the words slipped from his mouth. Abigail was fuming now while tears streaked her reddened cheeks.

"Of course you don't think it's a big deal, Ben," she said in a shaky voice. "It's always about you. We're supposed to be a couple—we're supposed to make decisions together…"

"This wasn't your decision to make," Ben said, now feeling like a broken record as they'd had this argument many times before. "It didn't matter anyway. I called Sadusky two weeks ago and they still couldn't find Steve. He had to come after Riley _again_ for us to catch him!"

"So you admit that you _willingly_ put Riley's life in danger?! He's your best friend, Ben…how could you…"

"I knew damn well what I was doing!" Ben roared. "So don't go judging me for things that you're not even a part of!"

"Stop yelling at her!" All eyes turned in surprise to Riley and his suddenly uncharacteristically raised voice. "And stop talking about me like I'm not even here!"

Riley was still pale and obviously shaken up by what they'd all just gone through with Stephen, but his expression was tense with frustration.

"Riley…" Ben started. He wondered if Riley knew there was still blood splattered on his face.

"No don't…don't you _'Riley'_ me, Ben," the young man said exhaustedly. "Can't you just…_admit_ you were wrong for once?"

Ben blinked in astonishment at his friend. He thought for sure Riley would be on his side at least. Sure he knew he was wrong for hiding details from his close friend and fiancé, but at the time he hadn't thought of any other alternative. Things hadn't happened exactly how Ben planned they would, but as long as Stephen was finally gone for good and no one was hurt, everything should be fine…right?

After a long silence, Sadusky stood up with a shake of his head. "This is all my fault," he said, willingly taking the blame when Ben could not. "I should have made sure you were all aware of what was going on before we moved forward."

But Abigail and Riley weren't listening. They both were staring at Ben with similar expressions, ones that looked like they were angry, frightened, and hurt at the same time. No one said anything for a long time, before Riley made a slight choking sound.

"I…I let him in the house, Ben," Riley said in a shaky voice that was barely louder than a whisper. "You…you didn't tell me he was…that he…and I… …I gave him a soda…" Riley's face turned ghostly white as thought saying what happened reminded him of just how alarmingly conversational he'd been with the man who'd hurt him. He finally reached up to his face and pressed a bandaged finger against one of the warm spots on his cheek. When he pulled away and saw blood, _Stephen's _blood, his face turned a light shade of green.

"Oh my God," Riley suddenly muttered. "I think I'm gonna barf…" He dashed out of the room and out of sight towards the nearest lavatory.

Ben looked just as sick as he watched his friend go, only he was sick with guilt. He followed Riley after a second's hesitation, leaving Abigail and Sadusky staring sympathetically after him.

He found Riley down the hall in one of the mansion's spacious bathrooms. Ben couldn't tell if he'd thrown up or not. The young man was standing over the sink scrubbing at his face with a towel and wincing at the pressure he was putting on his injured hands and wrists. He was frantically trying to wipe the blood from his face.

"Riley?" Ben said hesitantly, not wanting to scare his already tense friend.

Riley slowly lowered the cloth and glared at Ben through the mirror over the sink. He had looked frightened at first, but that fear quickly turned to an angry, accusing expression when he saw Ben. Even that faded away into sadness when he saw that Ben looked just as miserable as he felt.

Sure Riley was mad, frustrated, upset…but he could never really hate Ben for what he did. He would forgive him, in time, and forget this whole thing had happened. For now, and for the coming days, he figured it would be best to just keep giving Ben the cold shoulder.

"Riley," Ben started when Riley suddenly looked away from him to stare absently at something on the spotless white sink. "Riley, I am so sorry…"

* * *

"I really am sorry, Dr. Chase," Sadusky said earnestly as he looked the German woman in the eye. "We should have handled the situation better."

She shook her head. "No, Peter," she sighed. "I'm sorry. Sorry you had to see…_this_. Ben's been on the edge ever since…that day. We've been having trouble getting along."

The FBI agent nodded in understanding. He stood and put a gentle, reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure things will turn out for the best. You just take care of yourself, and keep an eye on Ben. He's going to need you now more than ever."

"He certainly doesn't act like he needs me," she muttered.

"Ben will come around eventually, I'm sure. You just need to help him see what really matters in his life."

While Abigail absorbed the man's words of wisdom, Sadusky turned and left the mansion. As quickly as he and the authorities had come they were gone again, leaving the house in a quiet, broken state from the day's events. She debated waiting for Ben to come back, to see how Riley was at least, but ended up heading upstairs alone, wanting nothing more than a shower and a clean change of clothes to wash away everything that had happened.

* * *

Ben heard the whir of a running computer as he walked past the second floor sitting room where Riley had pretty much taken over since returning from the hospital two and a half weeks ago. He sighed and walked past the doorway without a second glance. He'd barely even spoken to Riley since…the _incident_, and he doubted Riley would want to speak to him now. He was about to walk down the main staircase to get a fresh beer from the kitchen when he heard noises coming from inside the room.

There was a mouse click, followed by a low "darn it."

Then another c_lick_, and a "dang."

_Click, Click_. An even louder "darn."

_Click_. "Damn it!"

Ben hesitated on the top stair and looked back down the hall.

"Finally," he heard Riley mutter. "Stupid piece of crap computer…"

Ben was shaking his head with the slightest ghost of a smile when the sound of slow typing suddenly filled his ears. Each key stroke was followed closely by a hiss, or an "ow." Ben walked into the room but wasn't surprised by what he saw.

Riley was sitting at his desk while the floor was scattered with books and papers. Ben couldn't help but be reminded of himself in his apartment while he was doing research for his treasure hunt. What this kid was doing, though, Ben had no idea. He was still typing, and still muttering little pained sounds every time he moved his fingers.

"Riley," Ben said, frowning deeply when his friend nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Ben's voice. "What are you doing? You're going to hurt yourself."

"No I'm" _click_ "ow not. I" _click_ "owie gotta catch up on" _click_ "oww my book."

Ben came up to Riley and gently grasped each of his elbows in his hands, still frowning when Riley flinched at the slight touch. Ben eased his friends injured limbs away from the lap top keyboard. Riley let out a defeated sigh and left his bandaged hands in his lap, all the while staring at anything but his friend.

"God…I can do everything _but_ type, and typing's all I wanna do."

"Not today," Ben said, feeling like he was talking down to a stubborn child that still refused to look at him. "Come downstairs with me. We'll watch a movie or something to get your mind off your book."

"Don't you want to know what it's about?" Riley asked softly.

"Riley…" Ben swallowed hard and tried to ignore the fact that Riley still had a haunted, distant look in his eyes even while the rest of his face had physically healed and gone back to normal. "Riley I know you, very well, which means that I know that you know that if you start explaining what you're writing you will somehow convince me that you need to be writing right now, and, frankly, I don't think you should do that."

"You can't stop me."

"Yes I can," Ben said seriously, leaning down to look Riley in the eye. "I just don't want you to end up hurting yourself. It's okay for you to take a break from everything, you know."

"Yeah," Riley sighed. "A break sounds good."

Ben straightened up with a smile. "Good. I'll get some popcorn..."

But Riley didn't move. "No, Ben. I meant a break from…from this. From…you," he added quietly.

"What?"

"I just bought plane tickets. I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

"What?! How?"

"Oh, it was easy. Just a few clicks and I'm in first class and everything."

Ben was in shock. "Riley…you…you can't just leave like that…"

"I'll be back, I promise. After my book is done. The publishing house is in D.C. anyway, so I kind of have to come back."

"No I mean because you…you're…"

"I said I can do everything but type," Riley said defensively. "And I've even got a solution for that—I bought one of those microphone thingies so that I can talk to the computer and it'll type for me. Neat, huh?"

Ben just shook his head, looking sad and hurt.

"It…this is…it's gonna be okay, Ben, really. I've got an accountant guy who's helping me out now. Being rich is awesome—I can just hire someone to keep track of my money and to get stuff for me."

"But, Riley…"

"And I really, _really_ appreciate everything you and Abigail have done for me. It's just…" He sighed heavily. "I need to get away from this."

"Fine, Riley," Ben growled after a moment. "You want to go, fine. Go. Just disappear. You're good at that."

"Ben…"

"You know, there are only so many times I can help you and apologize to you for what happened, and then for lying to you all this time…" Ben sighed heavily as he fought to quell the anger that was rising in him again. "But if you really need to go, just go. I won't stop you."

Riley swallowed hard. "So, we…we're still cool, right?"

Ben forced a smile in Riley's direction. "Yeah, Riley. We're still cool."

And with that he was gone, leaving his dejected looking young friend to stare after him.

* * *

They drove in silence to the airport. Abigail kept sending Riley sympathetic glances but he was oblivious as he stared out the window and watched the traffic go by, sniffling occasionally. When they finally arrived at the terminal, Abigail pulled over and parked. Riley still didn't move or say anything.

Abigail swallowed hard. "Ben…he wanted to be here with you to see you off…he really did…but he…" she paused, unsure what she should say. "He's going to call you as soon as he can. I think he just…wasn't feeling well today."

"Yeah right," Riley whimpered. He took a shuddering breath and wiped at his cheek with the back of his bandaged hand. Abigail hadn't even realized he'd been silently crying the whole ride over. "He didn't even try to-to say g-goodbye…"

His lips quivered and his sad blue eyes watered. Abigail's heart broke to see him so upset. She reached over and gently gathered his quietly shaking form into a warm hug.

"I'm sorry, Riley," she whispered on Ben's behalf.

"Yeah…" A few more tears slipped down Riley's cheeks and he sniffled. "I'm sorry, too."

She rubbed his back in a comforting motion. "You don't have to go, you know. Things will look up…you'll see…"

"No they won't," he muttered.

"With Ben you just…we'll need to be patient."

Riley laughed sardonically at that. "Patient, yeah right. It takes Ben months just to get over the stupid little things. Imagine how long he's going to be in _this_ funk. I for one don't want to hang around and get dragged down into depression with him."

She didn't say anything—she didn't _need_ to say anything to confirm that he was absolutely right. And suddenly she wondered why she thought that she of all people would be patient. Abigail Chase was not one to sit around and wait for someone to get their act together.

Riley pulled out of her embrace and wiped the few remaining tears from his cheeks. "We should probably go," he was saying. "Before my flight leaves without me."

She simply nodded, her thoughts still on Ben and what little bit of their relationship they had somehow been able to keep going.

Abigail got up out of the car and opened Riley's door for him. She got his bags out of the trunk while he managed to shoulder his one carry-on bag without any trouble. They walked together into the terminal and waited on line in silence. At the desk Riley got his boarding passes while Abigail ensured his luggage's safety to the baggage thrower, passing him a generous fifty dollar tip as she did so. The last thing Riley needed at this point was to have his possessions lost or damaged in any way.

They were at the security check when she had to leave him. They said their goodbyes almost awkwardly and he turned away, leaving Abigail to stare after him. The two had been closer in this one short trip than they had been since they'd met and she somehow knew she'd never see him again—not without Ben, at least. Once Ben was back to normal. But she still couldn't help but think of what Riley had said and wonder if she and Ben even had a chance anymore. She didn't know how much longer she could wait for him and she, like Riley, was beginning to believe that distance was the only way to save her relationship with Ben.

* * *

He heard the door open and close, followed by the steady clicks of high heeled shoes coming into the room.

"Ben," Abigail said called somewhat hesitantly. He didn't even turn to look at her. "Ben I dropped Riley off at the airport. Mr. Napier is going to meet him when he lands." She paused, as though she was waiting for him to respond. "Don't you want to know where he's going?"

Ben still said nothing.

"Fine," she snapped. "I told him you'd call him. You'd better call him, Ben."

He heard her leave suddenly as the clicking of her heels sounded further and further away as she disappeared into the depths of the mansion. Ben stayed where he was staring blankly into space as he popped open another bottle of boos, his fifth today. He always thought alcohol was supposed to make everything feel better, or at least make you numb to the painful emotions. It must not have been working, because he still felt awful.

_

* * *

_

Beep

. "Hey Ben! It's Riley. Guess I missed you again or your phone's off or something. I'm still in New York by the way…just thought I'd call and…you know…see how everyone's doing. I'm good by the way, in case you're asking. My book is really coming along. I can't wait for you to read it. Anywho…I guess just call me back when you get this. Or any of my other messages. So, uh, talk to you later. Bye!"

Ben listened to the message twice before deleting it. Riley had been gone for almost a week already and Ben still couldn't bring himself to call back. He missed his friend dearly, but hearing Riley's voice as chipper as it was only reminded Ben of the horrible things that had happened to him. Ben couldn't help but feel guilty, especially when he could still picture in his head so vividly that night he'd found Riley in that basement. It haunted him.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't hear Abigail come up behind his chair.

"Ben," she said gently, knowing that any little thing could set him off. "How long are you going to be like this?"

"Like what?" he croaked. This was most he'd spoken to anyone in days.

She came in front of him and crouched down so the couple was eye to eye. "I'm worried about you," she said softly while she cupped his lightly bearded cheeks in her hands. "You…you're a wreck. You're not taking care of yourself, you're completely ignoring your best friend…and you don't even look at me anymore..."

She was right—even in their close proximity Ben managed to avoid eye contact.

"Please, Ben. I just…I don't want to wait for you anymore…I don't know what to do…tell me what to do…"

He cleared his throat. "I can't tell you what to do, Abigail. I think it's obvious that our relationship doesn't work that way."

She smirked despite his pessimistic words. "You know, I think that's the most you've said to me in weeks."

"I'm _sorry_, Abigail," he snapped suddenly. "Is that what you wanted to hear? I'm sorry, okay?"

She leaned back away from him, looking hurt. He buried his face in his hands.

"I can't do this with you anymore, Ben," she said, barely managing to keep her voice steady. "I really can't."

"So that's it…the pre-_pre _engagement, everything…we're done just like that?" He finally looked at her, and his tear filled blue eyes met hers.

Abigail stood and turned away. She'd so desperately wanted him to look at her before, but now that he was she could barely hold in her tears. "Just like that. I…I'll go…somewhere…I'll leave tonight…"

Ben groaned in protest and pushed his drunken form shakily off his chair. "No," he slurred. "No, you should stay. I'm going."

"But…but this is…_technically_ your house…"

He shook his head. "I don't want it. Being here alone will just remind me…remind me of us…of you…of how stupid I am."

"Ben…"

"You know I still love you, right?" Ben whispered. He needed her to know before he left. She needed to know how much he still cared about her.

But she hesitated for a moment, her back still turned to him even when she finally said, "yes, Ben. I know. And even after everything that's happened…after all you've done…I…I guess I still love you, too."

That was all they needed to say, and that was all either of them wanted to hear. Ben picked up all the empty bottles he'd dropped and headed for the kitchen. "I'll just…go get my stuff and be out of your hair…"

"_Your_ stuff?" she called back. "How will we know what's _your_ stuff and what's _my_ stuff?"

He actually chuckled at that, though it was the saddest attempt at laughter he'd ever made. He turned to respond to her query, only to find that she was already gone from the room. He was left alone to shake his head and wallow in his own self pity while he wondered where exactly his life had gone so horribly wrong.

* * *

Patrick Gates was just settling down for the night with a cup of tea and a Civil War documentary on the History Channel when he heard his doorbell ring. He groaned and considered ignoring it for a moment before pushing himself up off his chair. He tied his robe closed and ran a hand through his grey hair, hoping that he didn't look like a complete wreck. But as bad as he may have looked, the person standing on the other side of the door looked a million times worse.

"Ben? Son…what are you doing here?"

Ben stood in the doorway for a second with his head bowed and his shoulders slumped in defeat. His clothes and hair were a ruffled mess and he smelled like he'd been drinking heavily.

"Dad," he finally croaked. He looked sadly up at his father with tear filled, red rimmed eyes. "Dad I really screwed up…"

Patrick may have reprimanded his son for showing up at his doorstep at such an ungodly hour, and then for drinking to the point where a stench actually radiated from him. But the absolutely heartbroken and despairing look in his son's eyes made any anger he felt melt away to be replaced by loving care for his boy.

"It's alright, Ben," Patrick said as he put a gentle hand around his son's shoulders and ushered him inside. "Everything's going to be alright."

END…

…Then about a year and a half later "Book of Secrets" happens.

* * *

_That's it. That's the end. Half assed, but, meh, you get the picture :) I don't think everyone was this bummed out in "Book of Secrets," but then again—and I hate to admit this here—I haven't seen the movie since…well it was in theaters. Oops. But I've seen the first one countless times, even when it's on TV with commercials even thought I could just watch the DVD. Go figure._

_Most important part of my little note: big thank yous to everyone who read and reviewed this story! Special thanks to everyone for your insightful reviews, your regular reviews, your random reviews, all of your good reviews…hell, I could list all of you but you know who you are and how unbelievably awesome you all are :) One more thing—I know everyone always says like "update soon" or whatever, and I hope this was regular enough for you guys. I tried to make it pretty obvious I was on a schedule so everyone knew what day to check my story, as I tend to not divert from schedules :)_

_But now that it's over, I have to say that I'm honestly indifferent towards this very rushed story and its depressing ending…but only because I had something much more exciting on my mind! That's right, another "National Treasure" story! Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore…_

_Here's a quick preview, or more like a tiny taste. Look for my one shot in the coming days for the full length feature trailer._

Phone! It was coming from Riley's cell phone.

He scrambled out of bed and fell to the floor with a thump as he moved to frantically untwine himself from his sheets. It could have been Ben…maybe he had something for Riley to look up…maybe he was finally going to include him in this "Page 47" secret presidential crap.

"Hello?" he said eagerly as he flipped open the phone.

"Riley, sweetheart…how're you doing?"

Riley groaned. "What do you want, ma? It's like…" he glanced at his clock "…six in the morning. I keep telling you—there are such things as _time zones_…"

_God, I love Riley's mom :) …almost as much as I love sideways smiley faces :)_


End file.
